A New Beginning
by Ms-Figg
Summary: HGSS  WARNING: DH SPOILER. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ BOOK SEVEN. A very interesting turn of events concerning a certain Potions Master. Rating will change if story is continued.
1. Prologue

******Author's Note: I thought I would repost this story for those who've seen the last movie and are feeling the loss of Snape deeply. You'd be surprised how much people are affected. I originally wrote this story after the release of the last book. I'm hoping reposting it might help ease the sorrow a little. After all, Snape will live forever in fanfiction. "_**

* * *

**A New Beginning Possible Prologue to DH Compliant-fic (relatively)**

"It'll be all right," said Hermione wildly. "Let's…let's get back to the castle, if he's gone to the forest we'll need to think of a new plan…"

She glanced at Snape's body, then hurried back to the tunnel entrance. Ron followed her. Harry gathered up the Invisibility Cloak, then looked down at Snape.

He did not know what to feel, except shock at the way Snape had been killed. He followed Hermione and Ron into the tunnel, glancing back one more time on the body of the Potions Master before disappearing.  
Snape lay still in the darkness, his pale face even paler in death. He was left alone. Alone as in life…at last he had his freedom and Harry Potter would finally know the truth about him.

Suddenly, the body shuddered, the black booted foot trembling slightly. The wounds in the side of the wizard's neck slowly began to shrink, healing, the remnant of Nagini's venom finally drained completely. Soon, no marks remained to indicate he had suffered the cobra's deadly bite. The ruined jugular began to pulse, slowly at first but gaining strength as the wizard's pallor gave way to a more healthy, if still pale mien.

Again, Snape trembled, inhaled, then coughed violently, expelling a small, shriveled, kidney-shaped stone.

A bezoar.

The wizard's eyelids fluttered then opened, Snape gazing up at the ceiling as his vision cleared. He felt like shit, but didn't dare move…he didn't know who was about. His dark eyes shifted back and forth cautiously, then he slowly lifted his head to increase his field of vision. He was alone. Voldemort had gone as well as Harry Potter and his friends.

The wizard sat up and expelled a sigh. It was a good thing he entered Voldemort's presence prepared and the despot did not use the Killing curse. When Snape realized the sphere containing Nagini was upon him, he quickly reached into his robes pocket and stuck the bezoar stone in his mouth. He always kept one with him. He never trusted Nagini.

The basic property of the bezoar stone was it was a cure for most poisons…including King Cobra venom. This particular bezoar was magically altered and also had the power to heal and replenish. Snape was a Potions Master as well as an accomplished spellcaster. Not to mention a true believer in self-preservation at all costs. Some poisons could do bodily damage and so he made sure he was prepared for such a situation. Good thing he was so paranoid. The blood loss alone could have killed him.

The dark wizard rose up from the floor, brushed off his robes and took another deep cleansing breath. He had done what he intended to do and the final battle was firmly in the hands of the boy who lived. Now it was time to go.

Silently, Severus Snape, Potions Master, spy and one very lucky bastard, disappeared into the darkness…free at last.

As he cautiously made his way through the tunnel, then exited the castle grounds, the Potions Master couldn't help thinking that his representative animal should have been a cat rather than a serpent, he had so damn many lives.

* * *

A/N: Sorry JKR...I just couldn't let Snape go out like that. :)


	2. A Change in Circumstance

Chapter 1 Changes in Circumstance

After discovering Snape's true role and the demise of Voldemort, Harry went back to the Shrieking Shack to recover Snape's body, wishing to give the wizard a proper burial.

It wasn't there.

The young wizard was beside himself. Who could have taken it? Possibly the remaining Death Eaters? No, he doubted that. They were too concerned about themselves to collect the body of one of their ranks the Dark Lord killed. Maybe someone who hated Snape destroyed his body. It was a possibility, but who knew it was there?

Harry didn't know what happened to it, but in an effort to recover the wizard he placed an ad in the Daily Prophet offering five thousand galleons and no questions asked for the return of the Potions Master's corpse. They could return it to St. Mungo's and after examination, would receive a cashier check cashable at Gringotts.

There were several takers, but in each case it was found that the body wasn't what it appeared to be. One was a golem. It was easy to discover because it had no internal organs. The others were transfigured animals. One was even a glamoured body of a deceased relative. Snape's body never was recovered.

"Harry, there's nothing you can do," Hermione said to the distraught wizard as they sat in the living room at Godric's Hollow, "Snape is gone. All you can do is honor his memory in your heart."

"But who took him, Hermione? Why would they want him? He was with us all along. He loved my mother. The only reason he even was a spy was to avenge her death. I wish I had known…I wish I had some idea. I thought it was because he was loyal to Dumbledore that he did what he did…but it went deeper than that."

Hermione sighed.

"He didn't want you to know, Harry. It was something he kept inside him…something he didn't want to share. He loved your mother Harry. It's like..like us. He loved your mother, but he hated your father for a number of reasons. He was torn when he dealt with you…seeing your mother's eyes in your father's face. It had to be torture for him, especially since he was the reason your parents were targeted. He gave Voldemort the information that ultimately led to their deaths. He had to live with that guilt all these years, Harry. It was his personal pain," the witch said.

Harry looked up at her, his eyes glistening.

"I still wish I had known," he said, "Maybe things would have been different between us."

Hermione sat down on the sofa beside him.

"It wouldn't have been, Harry…believe me," she said softly, placing an arm around his shoulder.

* * *

Several weeks later it was decided that a portrait of Snape should be added to the group of past Headmasters. 

Harry was present as the portrait was hung. Minerva was now the Head Mistress of Hogwarts and both watched as Filch carefully hung the portrait. Hermione was present also.

Harry studied the scowling face of the Potions Master. He looked…well…sour.

"Couldn't they have at least made him look more pleasant?" he asked Minerva.

She shook her head.

"That wouldn't be a proper representation of him," she answered, studying the portrait, her eyes glistening.

Everyone believed the wizard to be a traitor and now…now they knew the truth. That it had all been an elaborate plan orchestrated by Albus. Severus had never received the honor he deserved. Oh, there was a lot of lip service, but nothing tangible…nothing that made a difference to him now.

He was dead, his remains the gods knew where.

"When will he start to move?" Harry asked, still focused on the portrait.

"He should be moving already," Minerva replied, a frown on her face.

Hermione, who was also present, stared at the portrait, her brow furrowed as Snape stared back at her, his dark eyes sharp and almost knowing. He was standing before the pickled creatures in his office. They made a horrendous backdrop with their staring eyes.

"Maybe it will take a little time," the witch said.

Two weeks passed and still the portrait didn't move.. Harry was less than happy about this. He had been hoping to question the wizard and find out more about his relationship with his mother and his and Dumbledore's plans.

"I don't understand it," Harry said to Hermione over lunch at the Hollow.

Hermione didn't say what she was thinking. They had found no body. It was assumed that it had been taken…but what if it wasn't? They assumed the wizard was dead, but no one actually checked his vitals. They had just left, their minds on the Dark Lord.

Suppose he survived somehow?

Well, she wasn't going to upset Harry. He was still dealing with the deaths of others that he cared about. Tonks. Remus. Dobby and others. It would be a while before he settled back into life.

Ron was spending a lot of time at the Burrow. His mother had taken the death of Fred very hard and she needed her family around her to cope. Hogwarts had been closed for the rest of the year. Everyone would have to come back next term to finish their studies…but there were no complaints. They had to rebuild.

* * *

One day about two months after the hanging of Snape's portrait, Harry and Hermione arrived at Hogwarts to find the castle crawling with Aurors. They quickly located Minerva. 

"What's going on?" Harry asked the Headmistress.

Minerva looked quite put out.

"Well I sent Filch down to Severus' rooms. It's time we cleared it out to make space for the next Potions Master. He was supposed to transfer all his books to the library. But every single book is gone. Stolen. Right from under our noses," the witch said, wringing her hands, "He had some very valuable books…worth a fortune in knowledge as well as galleons. It's just terrible."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. They had never seen Snape's library but it was rumored his study was filled from floor to ceiling and wall to wall with books, some of them quite rare, covering a variety of subjects. The Potions Master's library was said to be his pride and joy. Now it was gone.

"The Aurors are looking for clues," Minerva said, "Something that will give us an idea as to what happened to them, or at least how they were taken. There were well over a thousand books."

The Aurors couldn't find a single out of place signature in the Potions Master's rooms. Only traces of the dark wizard. That was to be expected. He had lived there for years. Filch left a small signature too, but he was a squib. It would require magic to remove that many books without detection. And although the threat of Voldemort was gone, there were still powerful wards on the castle to detect entry by those who had no business on the premises.

This meant either the thieves were well-versed in ward-breaking or whoever took the books was recognized by the castle itself and not barred. The general consensus was talented thieves were responsible, but Hermione had a nagging feeling this wasn't so, but once again kept her own council.

The thoughts she was entertaining were too crazy to be possible…still, they rested at the back of her mind.

Professor Snape was no one's fool.. He was a brilliant wizard and shrewd. It was possible he was prepared for the contingency of Voldemort killing him. Actually, she thought that his death was anti-climatic. He should have gone out in a blaze of glory, not be killed by something as simple as a snakebite. Potions Masters were notoriously paranoid, and carried all types of protections with them. It wasn't unreasonable to think Professor Snape might have as well.

Maybe…maybe he wasn't dead. Maybe he went into hiding, his role fulfilled. Maybe he was enjoying his freedom in some other part of the world, finished with Hogwarts and dunderheads.

It was a pleasant thought. A thought she didn't share although the shelves of book shops were filled with books concerning theories about the dark wizard, books that sold extremely well. Reports of people seeing Snape at Quidditch games, dining in restaurants and skulking in Knockturn Alley abounded, but were all unfounded. Presently the Ministry stopped investigating these claims, Professor Snape duly relegated to the annals occupied by Elvis, Tupac Shakur and Crumple-horned Snorkacks.

Of course, some businesses took advantage of those who believed in the wizard's continued existence. T-shirts reading "Snape Lives" abounded, the Professor's scowling visage prominently displayed. But no proof of this was ever found for over nineteen years.

* * *

Harry eventually married Ginny Weasley, who bore him three children, James, Albus and Lily Potter. 

Hermione married Ron and became a housewife in essence, never pursuing her goals. She had a choice to make, a choice largely influenced by the opinions of Molly Weasley who believed being a mother superseded everything else. Hermione had attended university and got a degree in Charms. She was a talented Spells Mistress, but became pregnant before she had a chance to get employment in her field. First she had Rose, followed by her brother Hugo. As a result, she put everything on the backburner.

Ron worked in the Ministry in the Department of Magical Games and Sports where he helped set up Quidditch matches and served in other capacities. He made a fairly decent living while Hermione took care of the home, much as Molly did, though she never did get the hang of making the fabulous meals Ron's mother did. She just wasn't that domestic.

Two years after Hugo entered Hogwarts, both he and Rose were called out of class by the Headmaster, Jonathan Wumblewort.

"I'm afraid you have to go home," the gray-haired wizard said to the pair, his eyes somber.

"Why?" Rose asked, a terrible feeling in her belly.

"You'll find out when you get there. Harry Potter is on his way to retrieve you," the wizard replied, his heart heavy.

It wasn't his place to inform the children what had occurred.

An hour later, a somber and red-eyed Harry arrived to pick the children up. As they walked across the grounds to the main gates, Rose studied him. Harry was strangely quiet.

"Uncle Harry, what's going on?" the witch asked the somber wizard.

Harry seemed to gulp down air.

"Let me get you home," he said, his voice quavering.

Hugo looked at his sister, then sidled closer to her, taking her hand.

"Something's wrong, sis," he said to her.

Rose's eyes glistened.

"I know," she replied, following Harry through the main gate.

* * *

A light rain fell as mourners stood surrounding the ground that would hold the remains of Ronald Bilius Weasley for eternity. 

Molly Weasley rested against her husband's shoulder, sobbing profusely as she looked down on the flowered-covered casket.

Hermione stood next to Harry, whose arm was thrown around her shoulder. Both were red-eyed as they paid their last respects to husband and friend. Rose and Hugo stood next to their mother, Hermione's arm reaching over the both of them, clutching Rose's shoulder. The children stared at the wooden box that held their father, cried out and sullen with grief.

Hermione barely registered the words of Ron's eulogy. It was all so unreal. He had left that morning, smiling and giving her his usual rough kiss before disapparating to the Ministry. He was refereeing a Quidditch match that afternoon between the Chudley Canons and Grodzisk Goblins. As usual, he flew to the stadium since he was required to have his Firebolt.

While flying to the stadium, Ron's broom malfunctioned. There was no foul play involved, but in the process of hanging on to the jerking broom, his wand fell from his pocket. When it plummeted, he had no way to save himself. He died on impact. It was a quick and relatively painless death.

Finally, the casket was lowered by magic into the grave. One by one, the mourners walked past, tossing in their flowers in a final gesture of farewell, Hermione and her children the last to do so.

As the witch was led away, she glanced up and saw a tall, hooded figure standing some distance away. He was standing next to a tombstone observing the service. Whoever it was stood stiffly and apparently was looking toward her though she couldn't see within the hood. By the way his cloak fell, Hermione could tell the stranger was a male.

As she gazed at the stranger, someone walked through her line of vision, pausing to give condolences. Hermione thanked him. When the wizard moved on, Hermione looked toward the place where the stranger had been standing.

He was gone.

Her brow furrowed as she wondered who the stranger was. Someone who didn't want to join the mourners but still pay respects. It could have been anyone.

More people spoke to Hermione as Harry led her and the children away. The stranger was soon forgotten.

She had a new life to live.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	3. Branching Out

**Chapter 2 Branching Out**

"This year's earnings were quite good, Bartleby," a silken voice said to the balding, brown-eyed and rather stout solicitor sitting at a large mahogany desk in a modest office.

"Yes, quite good,' John Bartleby replied to his client, "Your potions patents, sales and residuals are certainly bringing in the galleons. Business is going quite well, quite well."

There was a moment of silence.

"Bartleby, how long has my corporation been in business now?" the smooth voice inquired.

Bartleby did a bit of calculating.

"You had me set up the independent corporation eighteen years ago, this coming July," the solicitor responded, "And I have to admit, Sparse Venues Development has been going strong ever since."

Long fingers stroked a pale chin.

"For the past eighteen years, we have remained focused on potions development, our main expenditures for materials and ingredients," the voice said looking for confirmation.

"Yes, overhead has been kept to a minimum," Bartleby agreed, "Which has added to profit."

"I believe it is time to expand, to spread out into other fields," the wizard said.

"Other fields?" Bartleby asked, his bushy eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Well we are a development company after all," the voice said.

"That is true," Bartleby said, "But branching out into another field would require a site be constructed. Currently, you only have your own lab. You will need an actual base of operations in order to expand…and…employees. These costs will affect your profits."

"I have over eighteen years worth of profits that have only been invested repeatedly. The gains were quite good. I know what I'm worth. I can afford whatever I need to do for expansion. It will be small at first. I already have a site where construction can begin immediately. It is quite isolated, privacy and security being the main issue. The field of development is quite competitive and our research will have to be protected. I have certain specifications I expect the building to meet. I will owl you the detailed instructions tomorrow," the voice said smoothly.

Bartleby nodded although he wasn't sure this was a wise move, but then again he was of the "if it isn't broke, don't fix it" persuasion. Sparse Venues was doing fine. Improvement wasn't necessary as far as he was concerned. But he didn't own the business. His client did and he had to meet his client's needs. For the most part, Bartleby handled all aspects of the business except for the actual creation of potions. The patenting, marketing and collection of profits and residuals was his area of expertise. He also kept the books. His client's name was nowhere on the actual incorporation paperwork but he had legal documents for proof of ownership carefully hidden away. His client was a man who preferred the background and with good reason.

"Might I inquire what field you wish to explore?" Bartleby asked the dark wizard before him.

"Yes," Severus Snape purred, his black eyes resting on the wizard, "The field of original Charms. Spells Making. You are to place an ad for the position of Charms Researcher/Developer. All responses are to be sent directly to me. I will choose who will be interviewed and ultimately who will be employed."

"Understood," Bartleby said, already thinking of what periodicals he would run the ad in.

"Be sure to include that a full Charms degree is a must," Snape added, tapping his fingertips together, "And make it clear that the degree matters more than work experience."

Bartleby stared at the wizard.

"But surely, you want someone who has a number of years working in the field. Otherwise, the output will be significantly slowed…which will be reflected in the numbers," the solicitor said, "Production will be severely curtailed…"

"Just do as I say, Bartleby," the Potions Master snapped, "Let me worry about possible losses. I know what I am doing."

"Very well," Bartleby said, shaking his head slightly, "I suppose that your reasoning is you can pay a person with less experience a lower salary?"

Snape looked at him.

"No. I intend to pay top galleon," he replied, rising, "Just take care of it for me, Bartleby. I will see you when I see you."

The wizard raised his hood and exited the solicitor's office. Bartleby had been under oath not to reveal Severus Snape's existence or whereabouts for the past eighteen years and was well-paid for his secrecy. But in all that time he knew the wizard no better now then when he first walked into his office with a sack of galleons wearing a hood and secured his services. The Potions Master was content to let him handle all his affairs, although periodically he went over the books with a fine-toothed comb. It was a good thing Bartleby was an honest wizard. If he wasn't, he might have been a dead one. At least that was what he thought.

Although Severus Snape was considered one of the wizarding world's greatest heroes post-mortem, there was still something very sinister about the wizard, a kind of darkness one could feel in his presence. Not a completely evil aura…more like…a dangerous one.

He wasn't a wizard to cross by any means.

* * *

Snape apparated to his unplottable home, purchased by his corporation and located far from neighbors, on a mountainside, the area around his domicile warded with "Private Property" signs prominently displayed along with warnings that "Trespassers will be hexed."

The wizard removed his cloak, hung it up and walked into his living room, taking a seat in front of the fireplace and staring into the flames as he did almost everyday, losing his thoughts in the crackling flames. A house elf winked in, holding out a shot of firewhiskey. Snape took it wordlessly as the elf winked out again. He tossed it back and set the empty glass on a small table next to his chair.

An old Daily Prophet rested there. The one with Ronald Weasley's obituary and funeral information. He had been buried a week ago. Snape had attended. Ron Weasley had fought bravely in the final battle and been a great help to Harry Potter during the events that led up to Voldemort's ultimate demise

The wizard had married Hermione Granger. As a result of that marriage, the witch never pursued her field, becoming instead a wife and mother. Even when her children began to attend Hogwarts, she remained at home, her dreams all but forgotten. She had become a Molly Weasley clone, living only for her husband and children. Snape remembered how promising the witch's future was, and felt it a shame her talents were never utilized for the good of the wizarding world.

Snape wasn't alone in this. Hermione had been the brightest witch to graduate Hogwarts in over fifty years, and initially this designation was repeated with pride by the Professors at the school, holding her up as an example to emulate to new students. But when it became apparent that she would never do anything with her great potential…they eventually ceased to talk about her any longer. No one said it out loud, but Hermione was considered a wasted witch, someone who threw all her potential away to don an apron.

But now, Hermione had to step out. She was a widow and had to make a living somehow to support her children. It would be a shame if she were stuck on some Spells assembly line making fad charms, all her potential wasted because of her lack of experience.

To be honest, Snape had been considering expanding his business' scope for some time, but Ronald Weasley's death and Hermione's resultant situation brought it more into the present. The Potions Master didn't know if Hermione's mind had atrophied or not, but he was willing to give her a second chance. He knew how important second chances could be, and how they could change a life. Plus, he'd make plenty of galleons if the witch's abilities remained. That was always a good thing.

The house elf winked in again.

"Your supper is ready, Master," it squeaked.

Snape nodded to the creature and it winked out again.

The wizard rose, stretched and headed for the dining room. After supper he would prepare the specifications promised to Bartleby and send them out.

Construction would start immediately. There was a small plateau on his land about a mile from his location. Secluded and well-protected, it would be the perfect site for original charm development.

* * *

Rose and Hugo had just returned to Hogwarts, and Hermione sat in front of a stack of parchments looking them over. They were unpaid bills. Ron had minimal insurance, since a large policy would have taken quite a chunk out of his weekly salary. It was enough to cover the cost of the funeral, food, a few more months' rental and then Hermione would be on her own.

Harry and Ginny would be glad to help her out, they'd said as much, but Hermione knew she couldn't rely on the generosity of friends forever. She would have to get a job. She looked over at a picture of her and Ron taken years ago, standing together arm in arm, both of them grinning at the camera and tears filled her eyes.

Ron had been so full of life, it was easy to think he would live forever. He had been a good husband and father, though a bit archaic in his views concerning marriage. He was to be the breadwinner and provide for his family and Hermione was to be the wife and mother and nurture him and her family. They had quite a few rows about that before she became pregnant with Rose…then, the argument became moot. They had a traditional marriage just like Arthur and Molly. There was initially some resentment on Hermione's part, but then she thought she was just being selfish and eventually pushed her dreams out of her mind and became what she needed to be for her family.

Hermione sighed and wiped her eyes. She had to be strong and find her own answers, her own solutions. She wasn't helpless. She could care for her family.

She'd start looking for a job tomorrow.

* * *

A/N: Ok. Groundwork is laid and I think I have a general idea how I want this to go. Thanks for reading. 


	4. After a Few False Starts

**Chapter 3 After a Few False Starts, an Opportunity**

_"I love you, Hermione," Ron whispered breathlessly, his lips pressed against Hermione's temple as he held her in his embrace, "Why you married a bloke like me, I'll never know."_

_They had just finished making love, the hushed, yet passionate kind that wouldn't wake the children. Ron spooned around his wife, breathing in the jasmine of her hair as her soft body rested against him. Hermione smiled softly._

_"I married you because I love you, Ronald Weasley. Why you think that such a miracle, I'll never know," she replied, snuggling back into him._

_"Because…it is a miracle," he said, closing his eyes, "I'll always believe it was a bloody miracle as long as I live."_

Hermione awoke in her bed, turning over quickly to face the side where Ron used to lie. Of course, he wasn't there. He'd never be there again. His pillow was unmashed and the covers distributed evenly across the mattress, no sign of the nightly struggles they used to share, Hermione trying to keep a claim on her half of the bed sheets as Ron tried to steal them all in his sleep, rolling up into a cocoon.

During the day, Hermione could pretend that it was a day like any other day, with Ron safe at work, happy and alive. But it was the early mornings, late evenings, meals taken alone and nights where only darkness surrounded her, the empty space when she felt his absence the most, all a constant reminder that her husband was dead.

Hermione had loved Ron dearly. He was a bit rough around the edges, and could be a bit dense, but he was a brave wizard and a caring one, protective, strong and affectionate. He was a good father too, and never neglected either of his children, though he and Hugo were tight as thieves, the little boy able to rattle off the names of all the major Quidditch teams by the time he was two years old.

"He's brilliant, Hermione!" Ron would exclaim every time, bouncing Hugo on his knee and sneaking him sweets.

Hermione had become a bit of a health nut, but it wasn't simply because she was so health-oriented, though she did care about such things, but more because taking such a stand made it possible for her not to have to try and produce the rich meals, cakes, puddings and pies that Molly Weasley was famous for. If the family wanted that, they could always go to the Burrow. Snacks were usually fresh, crisp vegetables and desserts fresh or canned fruit in the Weasley household.

Hermione was still smart.

Both Rose and Hugo were home-schooled by Hermione, although Hugo took a lot more work than his sister. His attention span was as bad as his father's, the young wizard staring off into space imagining himself on a broom making the saving play of some close and important Quidditch match. He was still well-prepared for Hogwarts however.

Ron loved Rose very much. She was his little princess and Ron could be found scowling at wizards as young as seven years old when they would wave to her when the family was out shopping together.

"Hi," they'd say smiling shyly at Rose, who'd smile back just as shyly.

"Oy! Keep your eyes to yourself!" Ron would growl at the miniscule offender as Hermione would look at him incredulously, reddening as the parents looked at them, frowning. Then she'd elbow her husband.

"Ron, he's just saying hi," she'd chide him.

"I don't care. I need to teach them to back off early," he'd reply, swinging a giggling Rose up into his arms protectively and kissing her on the cheek, "Isn't that right, Princess?"

Rose would nod enthusiastically and claim, "Yes daddy, that's right!"

Then both of them would scowl at Hermione, who'd sigh and shake her head. Rose probably wouldn't have her first date until she was well over twenty-one if her father had anything to do with it. Even then she'd probably be trailed by Ron wearing Harry's invisibility cloak ready to throttle her boyfriend within an inch of his life for the slightest hint of potential intimacy.

They had been such a happy family.

Hermione wiped at her eyes and lay back down, hoping her next round of sleep would be dreamless.

* * *

Ideally, Hermione would have taken up private tutoring, but that wouldn't be feasible until school let out for the summer and would be seasonal work at best. She did give a shot at tutoring younger children that had not yet started Hogwarts, but found that she was not as motivated as with her own children. Not everyone was meant to teach.

She had also applied for a few entry-level Spells positions, but lost out to younger, more recent graduates for the most part, potential employers believing she had been away from her field for too long despite her excellent marks and transcripts. If they had a hands-on test, they might have found Hermione was still quite formidable, though she did need to brush up a bit. It might have been different if she was a mother returning to the work force, but she had never got into it in the first place.

In order to bring in some galleons until she could find a position she wanted, Hermione took a job at a local market as a cashier. It was fine, but didn't pay top dollar, yet she did the job stoically. There were a few uncomfortable times however, such as when former schoolmates came in and saw the Gryffindor brain ringing up and bagging groceries. Most were friendly, except those from Slytherin house. They didn't say anything, but gave her snide, amused looks, whispering to their wives or husbands and laughing as they exited. Draco did this quite often. He was still a bit of a git.

One day the pureblood sauntered in and approached Hermione when the line at her register went down.

"You know, Mrs. Weasley…there is an opening at the Manor for a maid. I pay quite well, probably three times as much as you earn here," the pureblood purred at her.

He would love to have Hermione waiting on him and his family. He had elves for that, but it would be worth the extra galleons to be able to order her about like a peon.

Hermione looked at him and back at the store manager, who was watching her, so she couldn't say what she really wanted to, so replied, "No thank you, Draco. I'm perfectly fine doing what I'm doing."

"Too proud, eh? Fine, then," the wizard said with a sneer, "It's ironic that with all that brainpower, you amounted to less than nothing."

He walked off, leaving a very red Hermione behind.

"I'm going to find something suitable," she swore, savagely sliding the items of a customer down to the bagger, "You just wait Draco. You're going to eat those words."

* * *

There was another problem. Hugo had begun acting out at Hogwarts…getting into fights and small duels with other students. He was a very angry young wizard, his pain at the loss of his father exhibiting itself in a very physical manner. He was a lot like Ron to start with, a bit rowdy, quick-tempered and argumentive just like he was. Add anger to this and it was a volatile combination and Hermione had to come to the school on several occasions for conferences, and then Hugo got suspended for three days, which resulted in Hermione missing work.

"Hugo, you have to stop fighting," she told her son, who glared at her stubbornly as they sat across from one another at the kitchen table.

"I'd be fine if people would just leave me alone," he groused sullenly.

"Hugo, you pick a lot of those fights," Hermione said to him.

"I don't pick fights…I finish them," he said darkly.

Hermione tried talking to him, then finally sent him to his room, feeling at a loss as to how to handle her son. She knew it was because Ron was gone he was acting out, but Hugo wasn't the kind of child who responded to reason at first. Oh, he'd come around…but it took time…just like it used to do with Ron. But before he went back to Hogwarts, he promised his tearful mother that he would try to control his temper and the incidents did lessen if not completely stop.

Rose dealt with her grief by losing herself in schoolwork and extra-credit assignments, cutting herself off from other students and finding solace in books, much as Hermione did before becoming friends with Harry and Ron. But there was no Harry or Ron for Rose and she kept her own council, only interacting with other students when it was required, although she did talk to her brother.

The loss of Ron was hard on all of them.

* * *

The building of the Charms Development site went well, the project completed within two months. A disillusioned Potions Master kept tabs on the work done and in the evenings he would stroll through the partially constructed building and inspect it, then send comments and opinions to Bartleby, who relayed them to the workers. Finally it was completed and the ad for a researcher could be run.

For two weeks, Severus scoured the applications, seeking a particular one. He had no idea Hermione had next to given up on working in the Charms field after so many rejections. But the Potions Master decided to take matters into his own hands. He asked Bartleby to find the address of one Hermione Weasley and send him the information. The solicitor did so.

Then the wizard went into action.

* * *

Hermione had just finished making a bowl of soup for supper and sat down at the kitchen table, when there was a tapping at the small window over the sink. She looked up to see a glossy black bird peering in at her. It had a long package attached to its leg.

The witch got up from the table, walked over to the window and after a bit of effort, opened it, the bird fluttering in. It was a raven. Not an ordinary post bird.

The raven fluttered over to the kitchen table and looked down at Hermione's soup with some distaste, then stuck out its leg. Hermione cautiously removed the package. The bird's beak was sharp and it didn't look too friendly. The raven immediately flew back out the window when the package was removed, not waiting for a treat.

Hermione looked after it for a moment then opened the package. It was a rolled up Daily Prophet with a note taped to it.

"Go to page thirty-four," the note read. There was no name.

Hermione unrolled the newspaper and leafed through it to page thirty-four where she found a want ad circled in bright red ink.

WANTED: Entry-level Charms Researcher/Developer. No experience necessary. A degree in Charms preferred. Send transcript to John Bartleby, Solicitor to secure an interview.

Hermione reread the ad. Who had sent this? It was obvious they believed she could land the job. Maybe Harry? Mr. Weasley? Someone had sent it.

No experience? Who wanted a researcher and developer without experience? Well, possibly the degree mattered more. Hermione didn't think she had much of a chance of landing the job, but since someone went through all the trouble of sending this to her, she could at least give it a shot. All they could say was no after all.

She'd send her transcripts tomorrow.

Hermione folded up the newspaper and returned to her seat. She had other things to think about. She was behind in the rent and a few other bills, though she budgeted carefully. The truth was she could no longer afford the house. She was going to have to put her things in storage and find a smaller place. It saddened her. There were so many memories here. She and Ron had tried to purchase a home of their own, but didn't qualify because Ron had a few credit problems he had incurred before he married Hermione. Combined with her being a stay-at-home mom, they couldn't get the financing they needed. Harry offered to cosign, but Ron was too proud for that.

"Don't worry mate, I'll get it straight before long," he said. But he never did. There was always something else to buy, something else to pay. But he never gave up and truly believed he could do it on his own given enough time.

But…that time never came. Fate, that fickle mistress stopped the clock.

Hermione sighed and ate her meal, missing Ron dearly.

* * *

A week later, a very surprised and apprehensive Hermione Weasley stood outside the office of one John Bartleby, Solicitor. She had received an appointment by owl for an interview…or so she thought. She opened the door and walked up a long, thin flight of stairs, ending up on a landing facing a single door. The office of John Bartleby.

She knocked.

"Come in," a male voice said pleasantly.

Hermione turned the knob and entered the office. There was a large mahogany desk and behind it a wizard in dress robes, balding, heavy-set, and with quick, intelligent brown eyes. He stood up and offered her his hand.

"Mrs. Hermione Weasley?" he asked for confirmation as Hermione shook his hand.

"Yes sir," she replied with a small, nervous smile.

"Please, have a seat, Mrs. Weasley," the solicitor said pleasantly. He waited for Hermione to seat in the comfortable leather chair positioned in front of his desk.

He looked at her speculatively.

"Mrs. Weasley, I have asked you here to make you a job offer. Your marks were quite exemplary, and we have decided that you have the potential to be an excellent Charms researcher/developer," the solicitor said.

Hermione's heart leaped in her chest. They wanted to give her a job? But who?

"What is the name of the business?" she asked him.

"Sparse Venues Development. Our corporation has been in business for eighteen years. Up to this point in time we only developed, patented and marketed new potions and elixirs. A decision has been made to branch out and expand. We would like to move into the field of Spells at this point in time and are looking for someone mature who can grow with us. The opinion of our board is that new graduates are far too flighty to invest time and money in, only to have them seek other greener pastures. They are easily wooed away Mrs. Weasley. We believe that a witch your age, with your intelligence and stable background would be an excellent addition to our staff. Your children are in school and you are, if you'll excuse me…a widow which means you do not have a husband to care for," he said somewhat delicately, "You have time to dedicate to your work."

Hermione forced her eyes to remain dry at this statement. It was glaringly true after all.

"If you were to accept this position, you would earn a weekly salary of…"

Hermione's eyes went wide at the generous amount of money she was being offered per week. It was a month's salary at the market.

"You will also be provided with an on-site apartment in which to live during the week. It is within the development building and comes with all the amenities, a full library, bath, kitchen, three bedrooms and assistance. You will be required to stay there through the week and will be allowed to leave the premises on weekends beginning Friday evening after five. You would be required to return Sunday evening before nine PM. During the week however, you will not be able to leave the premises except between the hours of noon and one pm, though you may take as many breaks as you like as long as you remain indoors. There are strict security measures in place due to the competitive and delicate nature of the work you will perform," John said, eyeing the witch to gauge her reaction.

Hermione was in shock actually. She would live there?

"Mr. Bartleby, my children aren't in school the entire year," she began.

"We have taken that into consideration, Mrs. Weasley. As long as they are not the destructive sort, they can stay on-site with you during the summer months if you wish. And we will relax the standards and up the security measures so they don't get 'cabin fever." The site is located in a wooded area with plenty of fresh air. They would be free to roam about as they please as long as they do not enter areas that are marked 'Private or Off-Limits.' Those areas will be warded anyway. Do you think they would conduct themselves properly?" he asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Yes, they are good children," Hermione said, her head swimming.

"Very good," Bartleby said with a small smile, "Now all that is left is for you to accept the position."

Hermione looked at him uncertainly.

"Would you mind terribly if I took a week to consider the offer, Mr. Bartleby?" she asked the solicitor.

"Not at all. This offer is a lot to take in. I think it is wise for you to take a few days to consider it. If you take the job, your life will change dramatically, although I daresay the opportunity is quite a good one," the solicitor replied, "Take whatever time you need. I will hold the position for one week."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said rising. John rose too.

"Thank you for coming, Mrs. Weasley. I hope to hear from you in the affirmative soon," the wizard replied, shaking her hand firmly.

Hermione left, Bartleby looking after her.

The witch would be crazy if she didn't take this job. Hell, he would've taken it if he weren't already well established in his field. If she didn't accept it, he would offer her more money. Snape had said to hire her at all costs.

He didn't like to be disappointed.

* * *

The first thing Hermione did was go to the Ministry library and look up Sparse Venues. Yes, the corporation was formed eighteen years ago and had two executive officers, one director and one secretary. Share certificates had been issued, but in limited amounts. It was a rather small operation that garnered very large gains. She looked at its history and found it interesting that the company's first patent was not an elixir or potion.

Instead it was a specialized Bezoar stone that quickly became a staple in every household, business, school and medical facility in the wizarding world. In addition to protecting against most poisons, it also had powerful healing powers that could repair physical injuries incurred by said poisoning including replenishing the blood. The company used the money earned from this marvelous creation to get off the ground as it were and had a number of successes under its belt. Now it wanted to expand into original Charms. It made sense since they were so successful with potions.

Hm. An already established business. Hermione could find a worse place to work. It sounded perfect…but she needed to talk to her children first and find out how they felt about it. Ultimately, the final decision would be hers.

Both Rose and Hugo were delighted…especially with the mystery surrounding the job, places that couldn't be entered and having to stay in the area during the week. The thought of lurking spies and menacing shady characters ready to steal ideas worked on Hugo's imagination. Plus, he always liked the woods. Besides, he could always go to the Burrow if he got bored. And his mother wouldn't have to worry about bills either.

"Go for it, mum. It sounds great!" Hugo said as Rose nodded enthusiastically.

"Much better than bagging groceries at the market," her daughter said with a grin.

"Much better," Hermione agreed, then they all hugged, excited about the new prospects in their lives. They needed something positive and this was it.

Hermione took the children back to Hogwarts after spending a happy yet bittersweet weekend with them, bittersweet because there was some packing to do and they would be leaving the only home they knew all their young lives.

Hermione looked at the smiling picture of Ron and blinked back tears.

"You don't have to worry about us, Ron. I think…I think we're going to be all right," the witch said softly.

Then she picked up the picture, kissed it tenderly and held it to her chest.

Her tears fell freely.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	5. A Meeting with Molly Very Short Chappie

**Chapter 4 Meeting with Molly (Very Short Chappie)**

"You're doing what?" Molly Weasley said to Hermione over tea, her face frowned up in disapproval.

Hermione had visited the Burrow to tell Molly about the new job she'd accepted. The witch was livid.

"Hermione, couldn't you have found a job more . . . acceptable? Something where you'd be in a more accessible area? What about the children?' Molly asked her.

"Hugo and Rose will be fine, Molly. They're at Hogwarts after all, and they can contact me if need be," the witch replied, "And if I can't be reached for some reason, they can reach you and Arthur. It's a good opportunity. I'll be working in my field and making a good living. It's perfectly acceptable."

Molly frowned.

"I'm sure Ron wouldn't have approved of you running off to some secluded area and shirking your parental duties," Molly sniffed.

Hermione scowled at her mother-in-law.

"Ron would have understood. I have to earn a decent living, Molly. He'd be happy I found a way to do that on my own," the witch said firmly. "I'm not shirking my duties. I'm doing my best to make a good life for Hugo and Rose. It's good for them to see their mother using her skills to make a living. There's more to life than cooking and cleaning."

The moment she said it, Hermione wished she could take the words back. Molly scowled at her darkly, affronted. She had spent her entire adult life making a loving home for her family. It was much more than "cooking and cleaning."

"There is nothing wrong with focusing on taking care of your family above all else," Molly said pointedly, "In fact, the reason so many children run awry is because their mothers are not there for them, choosing careers over their upbringing."

"Hugo and Rose have been brought up right," Hermione declared, "Right and proper. They know the difference between right and wrong and how to conduct themselves."

"But they still need guidance. What kind of guidance can you give them locked up in some research facility five days out of the week?" she demanded. "Hermione, you need to get your priorities straight and stop using my son's death as a springboard and excuse to pursue your own selfish goals! You're a mother . . . you need to act like one!"

Hermione stared at the witch. Molly would never understand, never see she needed to make her own way as best she could. Hermione was alone now. She didn't have Ron to fall back on. Molly had Arthur to support her and stand by her, to provide for her. All Molly knew was the loss of her son. Hermione had lost her husband, her lifemate, and had to continue on in spite of that. She stood up.

"Molly, I have to do what I have to do," she said to the witch firmly, "It may not meet your approval, but you know something, that really doesn't matter. I'd like to have you in my corner on this, but whether you are or not, I'm still going to do what I think is best for me and my family. It is your choice whether or not to accept it. Now, I'll be going. I just wanted to let you know what was happening."

Molly scowled at her, rising and wiping her hands on her apron reflexively.

"And I just want to let you know I don't approve of what you're doing at all," the matriarch of the Weasley family stated coldly.

"It's been duly noted. I'll contact you once I've settled in," Hermione said, "Goodbye until then."

With that, the witch left the Burrow, Molly glaring at her retreating back. The witch scowled as she heard the thunderous sound of Hermione disapparating.

"I can't believe she's being so selfish," Molly muttered, thinking it was quite fortuitous that Hugo and Rose had her for a grandmother to take up the slack.

It was obvious Hermione couldn't handle it.

* * *

A/N: A very short chappie. Not feeling too well, but thank you for reading.. 


	6. Moving Ahead

**Chapter 5 Moving Ahead**

Madam Dominique DeChay stood behind the counter of her establishment counting the last shift's earnings. Painted witches and a few well-oiled wizards stood in line waiting for their percentage of the day's work. She dropped a few galleons in an outstretched palm.

"There you go, Michelle. Good work," Madam DeChay said to a platinum blonde witch with a spelled mole next to her nose. She wore a clingy white dress that showed ample cleavage. She looked like a Muggle movie star. Michelle pursed her lips.

"Thank you, Madam," she said breathily, pushing her breasts forward and winking at the witch, still in character.

"Oh, go on you. You're off tomorrow. Rest up!" Madam DeChay said to the prostitute fondly as she minced off. She looked at the handsome young wizard that stepped up to the counter. He waggled his eyebrows at her, his hand out.

"Ready for my stud pay, Madam," he said with a bow and a perfect smile.

Madam DeChay, who was gray-haired, heavy-set, heavy-rouged and just this side of one hundred, fluttered her lashes at him coquettishly.

"Want to take it out in trade, Arlowe?" she asked him suggestively.

"Too many bills this week, Madam," he said, still smiling as she dropped several galleons into his hand, "Maybe next week, if you're still willing."

He snorted and made a whinnying sound. Dominique chuckled. This was a game they always played. She would no sooner sleep with the gigolo than she would her own son. One had to keep business separate from pleasure after all. As everyone from the streets knew, you didn't use your own product and expect to make a profit.

"We'll see, Arlowe. We'll see. Now remember, you have an eleven o'clock with Mrs. Holstein tonight, so don't wander too far between now and then. She likes to get started promptly," the Madam chided him.

"Don't I know it," he replied, "I'll be here in plenty of time."

"Be sure you are," Madam DeChay said, watching him walk off.

She paid off the rest of her employees, then looked down to see a little house elf looking up at her.

"The master wants a redhead tonight, Miss," the elf said.

Dominique nodded, then turned and ran her finger down a schedule.

"Cherie is available. Bill to 'Sparse Venues' as usual?" Dominique asked the elf, who nodded.

"Yes, Miss. Under 'Business Expense: Entertainment," the elf directed.

"Of course," she smiled at him, "Go and wait in my office, Eli and I will send her in."

Eli had been coming here five or six times a year for almost two decades to retrieve the occasional woman for his master. They were hooded and winked to his domain, then returned none the worse for wear.

Who the client was, was a mystery to the women in Madam DeChay's employ. He never spoke and never removed their hoods completely. The women would only hear his heavy breathing as he indulged himself in a bit of fellatio first, then straight sex from behind. He was quite good and very generous, pressing several extra galleons into the whore's hand before sending her back to Madam DeChay's House of Good Times.

Those women who had been with him all compared notes and claimed whoever he was, they'd give him a few goes for free. Unlike most clients who groped and grasped their bodies as if they had no nerve endings, he had the most amazing, gentle touch, a touch like a lover's touch.

Madam DeChay gave Cherie her final instructions. The redhead listened carefully. She'd heard about this mysterious client from other women.

"Now Cherie, this is a very good client of mine. He doesn't speak and will let you know what he wants by guiding you. Don't attempt to remove your hood. If you do, most likely you will be obliviated and I will lose his account, in which case you'll be on your back from morning until night covering what that wizard pays for this service, do you understand me?" Dominique said to the witch.

"Yes, Madam," Cherie replied.

"Good, now hold still," the Madam said, pulling a pink velvet hood over her head, then looking at Eli.

"You can take her now, Eli," Dominique said.

"Thanks you," the elf said, taking the witch's hand in his claw and winking out.

"Thank you, Eli," Dominique said, walking around her desk and scrawling down the charge in her ledger with a smile.

* * *

Hermione waited nervously as John Bartleby donned his cloak while giving her last minute instructions and information on how her first month was to be spent. 

"We wish you to spend the next month brushing up on the latest developments in Charms and spell making techniques, Mrs. Weasley. You are to do no actual wand work. At the end of the month, you will be given a comprehensive exam to gauge what you've absorbed. If your marks are low, you will be given another two weeks to review and then be tested again. If you fail a second time, you will be dismissed," the solicitor said to her.

"In addition, all correspondence to you will automatically be redirected to my office. I will forward it immediately," the wizard said, picking up a folder off his desk and walking around it to Hermione's side.

"Again, I must be sure you understand that during the week, you are only allowed outside of the building between the hours of noon and one o'clock pm. You must be sure to be back inside before the wards are reset. Do you understand that?" Bartleby asked her.

"Yes," Hermione said shortly.

"And on the weekends you may come and go as you please until nine pm. You cannot bring anyone to the work site however. If anyone attempts to apparate with you, or follow you . . . there could be dire results because of the protections. We don't want that, do we?" the wizard said to her.

"I understand, Mr. Bartleby," Hermione said, feeling a little irritated now. She knew how to follow instructions.

"Good. Now, take my arm and we shall go, Mrs. Weasley," the stout wizard said, offering her his arm.

Hermione took it and braced herself.

They disapparated.

Hermione felt solid ground under her feet and opened her eyes. They were standing in a wooded forest, facing a large, white rectangular building that glistened in the sunlight. A mountainside rose close behind it. The sounds of wind, trees rustling and birds singing filled the air. It was a very peaceful area.

"And here it is," Bartleby said, walking forward. There was a single iron door in the smooth, featureless face of the building. There were no windows. Hermione followed the solicitor.

"It looks as if it will be a bit stuffy," Hermione said, noting there didn't appear to be any vents.

"I assure you it is well ventilated. No expense was spared in the creation of this site, Mrs. Weasley. It is climate controlled and you will be quite comfortable," the wizard said.

As they approached the building, the door swung open.

"The building is set to your signature. When your children arrive, it will reset to allow them entrance as well. It hasn't been yet decided how much freedom they will have on the grounds here, but by the time summer rolls around all should be in place. We realize children need space. I am sure it will be an acceptable arrangement," Bartleby assured her.

They entered the building. They were in a small foyer with another single door in the wall. When the door behind them closed, someone spoke. Hermione felt magic wash over her.

"John Seymour Bartleby. Hermione Jane Weasley," a female voice stated, "You have proper authorization. You may enter."

"Recognition magic," the solicitor said as the door in front of them opened on to a hallway with several doors. Bartleby walked down to the last door on the right and opened it.

It was an apartment. There was a large, spacious living room, comfortable sofas and armchairs, a fireplace . . .

"This fireplace is not connected to the floo network," he told her, "the library is in here."

Hermione let out a little gasp of surprise as she walked into a furnished study with leather chairs, a large mahogany desk and books from floor to ceiling. She looked at some of the titles, her amber eyes wide. Some of the books were recent editions, but there were quite a few rare ones all covering every aspect of spells, charms and the like. There was a glass enclosed section. Hermione walked up to it.

"Dark Magic books," Bartleby said, frowning slightly, "Be cautious using these. Some can be quite nasty."

He pointed to a set of file cabinets in the corner.

"Those cabinets hold a catalogue that tells you what to do to access each book. Be sure to use it. If you don't, again . . . it could be quite nasty," the wizard said soberly.

Hermione was familiar with the nature of those types of books. Many of them contained demons, evil spirits or captured souls on the alert for some innocent to exchange places with.

"I will be extremely careful, believe me," she said.

"Good. Now, place your hand against the glass," the solicitor instructed.

Hermione did so and felt powerful magic wash over her.

"Now that area of the library will only open for you as long as you are in the employ of Sparse Venues Development," Bartleby said.

He walked over to the desk and set the folder he brought from his office on the top of it.

"This is a list of possible Charms that we would like examined for feasibility. While you are studying, you will also write a report on the feasibility of developing such spells, the possible dangers and benefits, and potential difficulties you might face in the creation of said spells. The reports will be collected from you at the end of the month and examined. Based on these reports, your projects will be assigned to you, provided you pass the exam," the wizard said.

"Um . . . concerning this exam, Mr. Bartleby, will I be given any study materials or aids?" she asked the wizard.

Bartleby shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, Mrs. Weasley. All I can say is garner as much knowledge as you possibly can. As far as I know, the test will be a written one. There will be no multiple choice or hints of any type. Straight questions and answers with no partial credit. Either you will answer correctly or erroneously," Bartleby said.

Hermione blinked at him.

"I had a teacher once who gave tests like that," she said to the solicitor.

"Well, that's a plus. You know what to expect then," he replied with a small smile. "In the meantime, study hard, Mrs. Weasley."

Bartleby turned to go.

"Wait, aren't you going to show me around?" she asked the wizard.

He looked surprised.

"Well, no . . . you will be living here. I think it best you become acquainted with the premises yourself. After I leave, you will be sealed in until noon. I suggest you unpack and get acquainted with these premises first before you explore the work area. Good day, Mrs. Weasley," the wizard said, giving her a slight bow and exiting the room.

Hermione stood there a moment, then suddenly a million unanswered questions filled her head, and she rushed out behind the solicitor . . . entering the hallway just in time to see the door leading to the foyer close. She ran up to it. There was no knob or handles. She pushed on it.

"Hermione Jane Weasley. No authorization to depart until twelve noon," the female voice said evenly.

Hermione scowled at the door for a moment, then turned and walked back to her apartment, closing the door behind her. How was she supposed to get in contact with anyone if there were an emergency?

She walked through the living room and down a hallway. There was a bathroom and three doorways, each leading into a bedroom. One had a large four-poster bed and a private bathroom containing a sunken tub and separate glass-encased shower. This was her room. She pulled her miniaturized trunks out of her robe pocket and placed them on the floor. Then she took out her wand and pointed it at them.

"Engorgio," she said, watching as the trunks enlarged.

She took off her traveling cloak and hung it on a stand in a corner of the room, then started to open the trunk.

"I will do that, Miss," a squeaky voice said.

Hermione spun, her wand pointing at a little green house elf who looked back at her steadily.

"I am Eli. I is your help, Miss," the elf said with a bow. "I works for Sparse Venues and do not keeps your secrets. But I will do what you needs done while you works here."

"I am Hermione, Eli," Hermione said to the elf.

It made no sense to even attempt to feel anyway about house elf servitude in this case. It worked for the company. There was nothing she could do. Eli approached the trunk.

"I will puts away your things, Miss. You may explores," he said in a no-nonsense voice.

Hermione looked at the elf, who looked back at her as if to say, "Go finds something to do."

"All right," the witch said, feeling a little out of sorts but not wanting to interfere with the elf's duties, "I'll just take a look at the kitchen then."

* * *

Disillusioned and standing a distance away from the site, Severus Snape watched Bartleby leave the building. He had seen them arrive. Hermione was now safely interred in the building. No doubt Eli would make his appearance soon to help the witch. The dark wizard stood there for several minutes after his solicitor disapparated, then turned and disappeared into the forest. 

He had work to do before twelve noon and wanted to be back in his lab when Hermione was allowed on the grounds. If she were anything like she was when she was a student, she'd be snooping all about.

Snape smirked darkly.

She'd better pay attention to the "Keep Out" signs.

* * *

A/N Thanks for reading. 


	7. Becoming Familiar

**Chapter 6 Becoming Familiar**

Snape quickly navigated his way through the forest and stopped at the first of several fields of plants he maintained, warded, disillusioned and protected from the prying eyes of others. These were potions ingredients he grew and cared for personally, tending to them carefully and lovingly. He hoped to move into Potions supply as well and after years of careful nurturing and study he had some of the best herbal ingredients that could be found anyplace. He had thirteen large fields he maintained, carefully irrigating, aerating and fertilizing them by hand using methods and creations of his own making to enhance their properties. One of the projects he wanted Hermione to work on was developing a spell that would enhance plant growth quickly without causing any decrease in the quality. He knew some time manipulation would be required, but also there would have to be conditional aspects worked in. Plants required certain amounts of sun, water and nutrients to develop properly. Aging a plant would not be enough…it had to receive what it needed during that growth. It wouldn't be an easy spell to create, but would be invaluable to the growing industry.

He also wanted a climate-controlled Terrarium spell, or a spell that would be able to contain an entire field of plants so they wouldn't be affected by the weather conditions surrounding them and instead have a controlled growing season so they could be harvested year-round. Again, this would require some weather manipulation skills or something similar. Perhaps Hermione could work in a watering/light system rather than recreate real weather. That would be up to her. As long as she made progress.

Snape knew that results would not be instantaneous. Some potions he developed had taken years to come to fruition. He had no illusions that Charms work would occur any faster. He was sure he and Bartleby would be having differences of opinion when it came to the witch's work. But he owned the company. Bartleby would just have to choke it down. The best and most stable spells would take time to develop. If there was one thing the Potions master had was time. He would not rush Hermione. Knowing the witch, she would be rushing herself for results.

As he laboriously and carefully raked between the rows of his flowering Jaberia plants, a bandana pulled up around his nose to avoid breathing in any of the pollen, which inhibited nerve functions, he thought about the witch. Hopefully her years as a mother had given her patience. She was never big on patience while a student, rushing to learn, know and complete everything immediately to the detriment of all else. It was good Hermione had a quick mind to go along with that impatience or she would have driven herself mad. The wizard believed the true test for her would be her ability to rethink and restart projects rather than agonize over them and continue working with a theory that wasn't panning out.

He moved through as many fields as possible, watering some and weeding others before noon. At eleven forty, he exited the woods, heading up the mountainside to his unplottable home on the face of it. It couldn't be seen by anyone it wasn't keyed to. His presence would remain a secret from Hermione.

As he opened the front door, he heard the warning whistle that the development building issued five minutes before releasing the ward that kept the witch inside. Another five minute whistle would sound before one o'clock. Hopefully the witch would be close enough to make it back to the building on her own.

If she wasn't, there was another way she would be returned. He had meant it when he stipulated Hermione was not to be outdoors after one…and made sure she wouldn't be. Her method of return would be unpleasant enough to make sure that she got back under her own steam after experiencing it, he was sure.

* * *

Hermione found the kitchen to be spacious and well-stocked with food in a cooler, a magically run freezer and a pantry. There were plenty of cooking utensils, plates and dishes and a large table that could seat four. Further investigation revealed a laundry room.

She then wandered out of the apartment and down the hall. She opened a door and gasped when she saw she had her own workout room. So even when she was inside she could get plenty of exercise. There were two treadmills, a number of weight machines, and a couple of bicycles. Further investigation showed a steam room, a shower room, a locker room and a glass enclosed Jacuzzi. She saw another door and opened it, letting out another gasp as she saw a full-sized lap pool.

Hermione realized instantly that there must be a resizing spell on the site. It was larger inside than it was outside. Well, this was a nice surprise. Rose and Hugo would love this.

Hermione exited the exercise room, and opened the next door. It was a bathroom. She continued down the hall realizing that rooms for her personal use were on the right, which meant the work area rooms were most likely on the left. She opened the last door on the right and walked it. It was just a huge, empty, white-walled room. She looked about with her brow furrowed. Was this meant to be a storage area?

Suddenly, the room changed, a map forming on the far wall. The map showed the layout of the side of the building meant for her occupation and recreation. It showed her apartment, the exercise room and pool, and itself.

"Room of Requirement," she read, amazed.

She had her own room of requirement? This was incredible. By providing the room, Sparse Venues had given her a place to go where she could recreate anything she'd like or needed. She wouldn't feel the least bit trapped. Whoever designed this building had certainly taken a lot into consideration.

Snape did. If there was one thing he knew about, it was the effects of isolation and he sought to spare Hermione the roughest parts of it. Plus the room could be used in tangent with her research in case she needed to create a temporary test environment. He had spared no expense to make her workspace viable.

In addition, the room could be utilized by her children too, hopefully curtailing them running about the grounds too much. The son and daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley were bound to be hot-headed and inquisitive to say the least.

Hermione then checked out her workspace. The first thing she noticed was a huge map of the earth, complete with a compass rose and contour lines that showed the lei lines of the earth and the physical features of the areas. Hermione walked up to the map, examining the colors. She tapped it with a finger and drew back as an enlarged rectangular section of the map moved forward in mid-air, showing the area enlarged. She touched it again and the first enlargement disappeared and a new one appeared, even more magnified. Hermione continued to tap the map amazed as it finally focused on someone's house, the lei lines defined by glowing lines around it. This wasn't a magical area, or the glow would be more pronounced. Amazing. She could pinpoint any place in the world with this map. What a fabulous work aid.

She studied the map, and located Hogwarts, then the Burrow, then tried to locate the worksite itself. The forest showed up, but not the building. Ah, the protections. More than likely unplottable. Still, this was good Mapmaking magic. It didn't show people however, only areas and the corresponding lei lines.

There was an office off to the side of the large room, and a library, and a huge storage room full of notebooks, quills, parchments and other items. Tacked on the wall was an order form with a muggle pen attached to it by a string. She imagined she was to use this when she needed anything. More than likely it would magically place the order for her when filled out. Very convenient.

The next room was filled with earth and very humid. What was this for? Well, she supposed she'd find out soon enough. Maybe it was to grow things.

There was another area with several long glass cages of nifflers and rats embedded in the walls, cages that ran the length of all four walls, running up and over the door. The animals looked well maintained and sleek, the nifflers playing with gold nuggets and the rats running on exercise wheels. Well most of them. It seemed as if there was a small orgy going on in the back of the cages, the furry creatures copulating happily. There was an island in the center of the room with large adjustable lights over it and implements for dissection laying in neat groups around it. Hermione glanced at the happy animals and sighed. At least they had a nice life.

It had been years since she dissected anything alive, though she cut up chicken on occasion when she'd cook dinner for . . . Ron. He loved stewed chicken with vegetables and dumplings. It was one meal she was very good at cooking and the wizard never got enough of it.

"You could cook this everyday for the rest of my life, Hermione, and I'd die a happy man," he'd say enthusiastically, tucking in and chewing blissfully.

Poor Ron. At least she believed he was happy when he died. Life had been good for them.

Hermione left the room and returned to her apartment. She found her things neatly put away and the strange little elf gone. He wasn't as groveling and subservient as other house elves she had met. But maybe that was because he was bound to a business rather than an individual. That was a quite an impersonal arrangement.

Suddenly, a kind of siren sounded and the door to her apartment opened of its own accord. Hermione jumped, looking shocked at the noise.

"Lunchtime," the female voice announced brightly. "You have one hour of free time outdoors, Mrs. Hermione Weasley. You must return promptly or before one pm."

Grabbing her cloak, Hermione exited the apartment, hoping she could have the siren's volume turned down. It was much too loud. She saw the foyer door opened and hurried through it outside to the grounds. She decided to take a stroll through the forest, since that was pretty much all she could do. To her surprise, she found a little area with a picnic table, benches, some statues and a little fountain. A small trash bin stood off to the side. So, she could eat lunch out here. Well, that was nice.

She saw a little path leading away from the eating area, winding around through the forest. Hermione followed it. Little beds of flowers appeared here and there, and a few of the trees were old and quite magnificent with their large trunks and branches. Birds flitted about and squirrels scampered chittering at her as she passed. It really was a lovely peaceful area. She saw a few signs in the ground in the distance. They were of varying sizes, but all of them had bold red lettering. Although she couldn't read them she was sure they were warning signs. Well, she'd get a closer look another day.

She soon realized that the path led back to the development building and it had taken about forty-five minutes to traverse. Well, it had been a nice walk in the fresh mountain air. She studied the face of the mountainside, wondering if anyone lived on it. It didn't seem like it. Deciding she'd explored enough for her first day, she returned to the building and her apartment. At one o'clock, another siren sounded.

"Mrs. Hermione Weasley has returned in a timely manner. Wards up," the female voice said.

Hermione could feel no perceptible change. Definitely a sign of powerful wards. The best were not discernable until they activated.

Hermione walked into the kitchen and made herself a ham sandwich and pumpkin juice, then walked over to the desk where Bartleby left the folder of potential spells the company was interested in. She opened it up and lifted a parchment in one hand, took a bite out of her sandwich which was held in her other hand and chewed thoughtfully as she perused the list.

Hm. Very interesting. Most of the focus seemed to be on agricultural Charms. This could be because of the need for potions ingredients. Maybe the company was considering marketing them as well. It made sense. Hermione initially thought the Charms she was to developed would be marketed commercially. Well, possibly they would be, to specialized markets. Still, the spells sounded challenging and intriguing.

She wished she could get started right away, but she still had to cram for the test she had in one month. Still, she did have to do the feasibility reports. Those would be interesting as well as help her sketch out some ideas in her head.

Hermione had a feeling she was going to love her job. Yes, she was alone here, but back when she was learning new things and working on research in school, she loved being alone…it let her focus and concentrate. She preferred solitude when involved in things cerebral. As far as she was concerned, this set-up was perfect.

It was almost as if someone tailor-made it to suit her.

Little did she know, someone did.

* * *

A/N: NIIIIIICE amenities, eh? Hermione is hooked up, lol. Severus, a dark farmer as well as a Potions master? Yeah, it can work. Working with the land is soothing and after the life he's led, he probably gets a lot out of it. Anyway, thanks for reading. 


	8. Remembering

**Chapter 7 Remembering (A Short Chapter)**

_Moonlight softly shone through an opening in the trees illuminating the small space where Ron and Hermione sat, happy and silent in each other's company. They had a late supper together in a secluded wooded area, picnic-style and now Ron rested with his back against a tree, Hermione leaning back against him._

_Hermione saw him every other weekend or so. She was attending university and Ron had secured an entry-level job at the Ministry in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. The pair were very much in love._

_Ron let out a satisfied sigh and tightened an arm around Hermione's waist as she lay against him, breathing in the jasmine scent of her hair._

_"You know Hermione," he began hesitatingly, "I feel like I could stay here with you forever."_

_Hermione smiled. Ron said the sweetest things sometimes, between the idiotic statements he was known for._

_"That's sweet, Ron," she said softly._

_The wizard fell silent, but Hermione could tell by the change in his breathing that there was something wrong. She leaned to the side and looked up at him._

_"Ron, what's wrong?" she asked him, her brow furrowed._

_Ron looked down at her rather wildly for a moment, then shifted._

_"Get up, Hermione," he said suddenly, "Stand up."_

_"Why?" she asked him, frowning now._

_"Because I need to get up," he said, "Please Hermione."_

_Hermione shifted around then stood up. Ron popped up too, just like a jack-in-the-box, still looking at her with the whites of his eyes showing._

_"Ron, you look scared to death. What's wrong?" she asked him again._

_In answer, Ron gripped her hands and turned her so her back was facing the tree._

_He deliberately stepped back a pace, then dug into his pocket, pulling something out. He looked at Hermione, swallowing hard, then bounced down to one knee quickly. He looked up at her._

_"H..Hermione…will you marry me?" he asked her, his face ashen._

_Hermione blinked down at him._

_"What, Ron?" she said to him, startled._

_"I said, will you marry me? I want to marry you, Hermione. I love you," the red-haired wizard said, swallowing again and looking as if he'd stumbled on a cave full of Acromantula . He showed her a box and opened it. A gold engagement ring with a very tiny diamond rested on the velvet._

_Hermione started to open her mouth and Ron cut her off._

_"Please don't say no, Hermione. I'd die if you said no. I never wanted anything more in my life than to be your husband. Not even to be Captain of the Chudley Cannons," the wizard pled, his blue eyes glistening in the moonlight. "We don't have to get married right away. I can wait. I just want to know you'll be mine forever. I'll wait years for you if that's what you want. Just tell me you don't want another bloke, Hermione. I can't stand the thought of it. Please."_

_"Oh Ron," Hermione said, moved by the sincerity of his outburst._

_Heartened, the wizard grasped her hand._

_"No one will ever love you more than I do, Hermione. You're brilliant, you're beautiful…you're…you're brilliant," he said, stumbling over his words, "Say you'll marry me. It would make me the happiest wizard in the world, ever."_

_Hermione stared down at the wizard. She did love Ron. He was strong, relatively stable, fun and believe it or not, a gentleman. He had never pressured her for sex the entire time they'd been together. He had a good job and a good heart. He also came from a loving family and knew how to be kind and affectionate, even if he had moments of…well…madness. But they didn't bother her as much anymore. Ron was just reactive. He straightened out after a bit of thinking._

_"I love you too, Ron. Yes. Yes, I'll marry you," she said with a soft smile._

_Ron stared up at her in disbelief for a moment, scarcely breathing. Then suddenly he let out a whoop and grabbed her, spinning the witch around wildly and planting a big, wet kiss on her lips, before remembering he had to put the ring on her finger._

_He carefully took it out and slipped it on, wriggling it a bit to make sure it fit._

_"There," he said, looking down at the ring and then at Hermione, his chest puffing out a little bit, "You are properly engaged…to me."_

_Hermione looked at the ring and smiled._

_"Hermione Weasley. That's going to take some time to get used to," she said to him, smirking._

_Ron drew her into his arms._

_"That's all right. You'll have an entire lifetime to get used to it," he said, kissing her again._

* * *

Hermione awoke, her face drenched with tears and her heart aching as she sat up in the bed. She had dreamed about Ron proposing to her. It had been sweet and awkward and wonderful, the wizard dancing a little jig from time to time as he took her back to her dorm, then took off to tell Harry and his family there was going to be a new Weasley in the family. What a row that caused. Everything went mad and Molly, Ginny and Fleur became her shadows right up to the wedding day. It was a wonder she could get anything done.

What she remembered about her wedding day the most, was the wedding night, when she and Ron made love for the first time. Ron was as nervous as she was, though he wasn't a virgin. The nuptials were interrupted as they got into a little row about virgin wizards vs. virgin witches.

"_A wizard's supposed to know what to do on his wedding night, so he needs practice," Ron argued._

_"Yes, but then we lose some virgin witches in the process, don't we?" Hermione argued back._

_This went on for a bit, with Hermione trying to find out who Ron shagged for practice and when. Luckily it had been a while back, before they were serious . . . though he wouldn't tell her who._

_Ron's voice suddenly lowered._

_"But Hermione, I look at you . . . and I feel I don't know anything except I want to be as close to you as I can possibly get. Even then I know it won't ever be close enough, I love you so much," he said to her, "I've never loved anyone like I loved you. When I . . . when we . . . it's going to mean something. Really mean something, Hermione."_

_All of Hermione's anger just evaporated as she looked at her new husband. Ron was dressed in new red and white striped pajamas with a little red and white nightcap, and she was in a white silk nightgown. Both of them were under the covers sitting up against the headboard._

_They weren't for long, and Hermione soon found out Ron knew exactly what he was doing._

_Afterwards, lying under Ron and feeling his soft kisses on her forehead and lips, she looked up at him. His eyes were soft and full of wonder._

_"You are amazing, Hermione," he breathed, kissing her again, unwilling to break away from her. Then he looked a bit worried._

_"Um, Hermione…did I…did I make you…you know…" he asked her, trepidation in his voice._

_Hermione lay very still for a moment, then said, "I think you did, Ron. There was a moment there when it seemed as if the entire world just…exploded and I was kind of whirling about."_

_Ron gave her a broad smile and looked rather proud of himself before kissing her again._

_"That's great, Hermione. Just great," he said, gathering her in his arms and rolling to the side, pulling her into his chest and spooning around her nude body. He held her close just that way for the rest of the night, and the nights that followed. Even years later, after the children were born there were some night he held her as if he'd never let her go. He never stopped loving her._

* * *

Hermione blinked back tears and lay back down, alone in the dark with her grief for a bedfellow.

Even the exciting changes in her life could do nothing for the ache she felt for her husband. Nothing could take care of the pain of his loss, but time.

And Hermione had plenty of time.

* * *

A/N: Short chapter. I just want to intersperse some of Hermione's life with Ron into this story, so it is very clear that although Hermione gave up her dreams to be a wife and mother, she still loved him very much. I think that's important for us to know. Thanks for reading.. 


	9. In Her Element

**Chapter 8 In Her Element**

"Wow," Hugo said to his sister Rose with wide eyes, "It sounds like mum's living in a mansion or something, doesn't it, Rose? Her own Room of Requirement, a pool, a house elf to take care of her? It sounds awesome. I really want to go see it, don't you?"

Rose nodded as she looked at the parchment she received by owl that morning from Hermione. She and Hugo were down by the lake sitting on the ground and reading it together, over and over.

Even though they were back at Hogwarts, life felt so different now. Before, both children had little worry about their mum's condition. She was home with dad and fine. But now, their father was gone and so was the house. Hermione was no longer in a familiar place, a comfortable place they could return to, a place they could call home. She lived where she worked now for the most part and was alone except for a house elf. For Rose and Hugo, their lives had taken on an unreal quality. The stability they once had was gone and it was disconcerting for both of them. Still, they did the best they could, not wanting Hermione to worry. She had enough to handle with her new job and all.

Rose and Hugo were going to be spending a lot more time at the Burrow with their uncles and grandparents. They had plenty of room and Molly was always happy to see them and spoil them with rich meals and desserts.

"Look at you, Rose . . . you're as skinny as a broomstick," the witch would say, looking at Rose critically. It was easy to see the witch was going to be tall and slender like Ginny and her father, "Have more mashed potatoes, dear. They'll stick to your ribs."

They had lost their maternal grandparents years ago, Mr. Granger passing on first, followed closely by his wife a year later. They were Muggles, and so had much shorter life spans then magical folks. Hermione always believed her mother died of grief. Her parents had been very close.

Rose studied the parchment again, then answered Hugo.

"Yeah, it sounds great, Hugo. The only thing I don't like is that mum's all by herself," the witch said, "She must be lonely."

"But she can leave on the weekends, sis. And she probably has a lot to keep her busy. She's studying right now for a test. You know how mum is when she's reading something. She tunes everything else out. She probably likes being by herself," her brother said, trying to put a positive spin on the situation.

"Maybe. She's going to stay with Uncle Harry this weekend. Maybe we can go see her. I'm going to write her back and ask," Rose said.

She really wanted to see her mum. It would be reassuring to see her. Rose wanted physical proof her mother was all right.

"That's great! I hope she says yes," Hugo said enthusiastically. The pair stood up and began to walk back toward the school. Hugo looked up at his sister.

"You know Rose, the Grangey twins have relocated, and there's two spots on the Quidditch team for chasers. We should try out," the young wizard said.

Rose snorted.

"Right. I'm going to play Quidditch," she said to him.

"Sure. You played with me all the time at home, Rose. You're a great flyer. Anyway, I think you need to do something different, something with other people. Ever since dad…well…what happened to dad, you've done nothing but lock yourself in your room and study. It's not good, Rose. You're not talking to anyone, that's a good way to go mad, you know. Plus, it would be great if we both made the team. I really want you to try out with me. Come on. What do you say?" Hugo asked her, his blue eyes pleading.

Rose looked at her brother, then shrugged. What could it hurt? She wasn't going to get picked anyway and it had been a while since she'd been on a broom. She loved to fly fast. Apparently she and Hugo had been spared Hermione's fear of flying.

"All right. I'll do it, Hugo . . . but just because you asked me to. Don't be disappointed if I'm not chosen for the team," she said to him.

Hugo gave her a smile.

"Don't be surprised if you are," he responded happily.

* * *

Disillusioned and dressed in a light robe, Snape made his way through the forest toward the far side of the mountain. It was time to check on his most precious cultivation, Susarium Folani, a type of rare mold that grew on the walls in the depths of dank, damp caves. Up to this point, no one had been able to make the mold take hold in a controlled environment. Snape discovered after years of trial and error, a solution that if brushed on the wall would attract and hold the spores of this rare substance, which would then generate. He had no idea how potent it would be, but maintained his crop carefully, waiting for it to turn the rich brown color that determined peak maturity. 

The dark wizard wove his way through the trees, which became sparser and sparser, giving way to low lying brush, then grasses before the ground became next to barren, small stones scattered about. He walked up to the sheer rock face. There were no crags or handholds here, and the cave itself was located quite a ways up.

The Professor had no broom with him. Even if he did it would do no good. The airspace around this area was carefully warded and no broom could enter it or even garner the power for lift-off. But Severus Snape needed no broom.

The wizard stood before the mountain and concentrated, drawing upon his own wealth of darkness and letting it build up inside him like a dark fire, waiting for release. He looked up toward his destination.

"Locomordres!" he hissed, flying upward via the use of the dark magic he had learned from his former Master, the magic that enabled him to escape Hogwarts and his pursuers those many years ago during his short stint as Headmaster. As with apparition, a wizard had to have a wand on his person in order to perform this feat, a wand and a great store of inner darkness.

Severus Snape had both.

The wizard landed on a small ledge before what looked like little more than a fissure in the stone. He pulled up his bandana, then squeezed through, pulling out his wand.

"Lumos," he breathed, picking his way through the darkness carefully toward the far wall on which rested his treasured mold. He stopped before it, studying the flat layer of fungus, moving the tip of his wand back and forth quickly. Yes, it was an even darker green now.

The Potions master pulled a spray bottle out of his pocket and carefully spritzed the ten foot length of mold, wetting it lightly with his special solution, making sure to cover the edges which could dry out quickly. Satisfied, he left the cave, blinking in the sunlight as he emerged. He pulled down his bandana and once again invoked the Dark Magic that gave him the gift of flight.

"Locomordres!"

* * *

Hermione was busily scratching out her outline for the potential plant-growing charm. It was a list of what supplies she would need. A Time Turner for one. She had dreamed about dissecting one of the marvelous instruments, and now it appeared she was going to be able to do so. Time Turners were restricted however. Most likely Bartleby would have to get a special research dispensation in order to acquire one for her. She would need to create a containment sphere as well to keep the magic from dispelling once she released it, and a colorization charm that would make the energy visible so it could be worked with. 

The witch was quite excited as she wrote, the possibilities popping into her head as minutes, then hours flew by. She missed her hour out because she totally ignored the siren and the voice telling her it was time to go. It kept repeating it until Hermione yelled in irritation, "I'm not bloody going out!"

The voice stopped and the wards came back down. It seemed Hermione could influence them to some extent, not that she noticed. She was so busy, that she missed lunch and when the house elf arrived and announced he had made dinner, she told him to leave it in the cooler.

Eli's ears flicked forward, but he did as she asked and returned to the Potions master.

Severus didn't usually speak to the house elf much, except to give him orders. But now he had a reason. He used the elf to keep track of Hermione's activities. He listened as Eli told him the Miss did not eat her dinner and told him to leave it in the cooler.

The Potions master frowned slightly.

"What was she doing? It was after five was it not?" he asked the elf.

"Yes sir. But she still works, sir, at the desk, sir," Eli said.

"I see," the wizard said thoughtfully, tapping his chin with one long, pale finger. "Eli, I want you to go back to the site at ten and check the cooler to see if Mrs. Weasley has indeed eaten her food. Report back to me. I will be in my lab."

"Yes sir," the elf said with a bow as the Potions master exited the room, walked to the back of his house, pressed an area of wall and a hidden door revealed itself in the wall. He opened it and descended a long flight of stone stairs, torches spaced evenly along the walls to provide light. The door disappeared behind him

His lab was located within the mountain, carefully ventilated and warded. He felt magic pass over him midway in his descent. Anyone else who passed through that wall of magic would have been instantly rendered unconscious and an alarm would sound. Even Eli could not enter here.

Snape entered his lab, his black eyes drifting over the ten cauldrons bubbling simultaneously. He pulled off his robes, rolled up his sleeves and went to work.

* * *

Eli returned to the work site and found Hermione still seated at the desk, several parchments spread over the surface, writing furiously. Her hair looked a bit wild, and she had a driven look in her eyes. She didn't even notice the elf. 

Hermione was in her element again, ideas, thoughts and possibilities filling her mind and her imagination as she furiously wrote down her findings. A few open books rested on some of the parchments, showing illustrations and diagrams of plant cell structures.

"I need an idea of what types of plants this Charm will be used on," Hermione muttered to herself, "I guess I'm going to have to write the probability factor of the Charm for each of the classes."

Eli watched as Hermione flipped through one of the books, found a page and started writing again.

" Ferns. Rushes. Grasses and Sedges. Fungi. Lichens. Mosses, Liverworts and Clubmosses. Seaweeds . . . hmmm, I doubt seaweeds, but I'd better include them anyway. Trees and Shrubs. Well, that's a start anyway," the witch said.

Eli walked into the kitchen and checked the cooler. Hermione's dinner sat there uneaten. He closed it back and walked back into the living room and studied the witch, who was still muttering to herself, her hair looking even wilder. He shook his head and winked out. He knew the Master would not be pleased.

* * *

Eli waited for Snape to return from his labs, then gave him his report. 

"The Miss still has not eats. She works still," the elf said, "And mutters."

"Thank you, Eli," the wizard said, "That will be all."

The elf bowed and winked out.

Severus sat down in his armchair and stared into the fire, thinking. Obviously, the witch hadn't changed much. The pursuit of knowledge still took her over to the exclusion of all else. Well, he couldn't baby sit her. Hermione was a grown woman and should know to take care of herself. But then again, time had a tendency to fade when the mind is absorbed and the needs of the body could be ignored. There had been times he too fell to the lure of knowledge and possibility. It could be addicting.

His black eyes captured the firelight. Something had captured the witch's imagination. Something had inspired her. But she was supposed to be engaged in study. He couldn't be certain it wasn't study actually, but she still needed to see about herself.

What could he do about this?

* * *

The next morning Bartleby received a letter from his most clandestine client. His brows went up in surprise as he read it. The solicitor shook his head, then pulled a piece of parchment with his letterhead out of his drawer, picked up a quill and began to address a letter to Mrs. Weasley, informing her there would be some changes at the site. 

He was certain she wouldn't like them.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	10. A Solution

**Chapter 9 A Solution**

Hermione once again missed her hour outside. Eli showed up and made her lunch and was told to set it in the cooler, next to the uneaten dinner. Hermione did have a bit of toast and tea when she first woke up, and washed her face…but was so anxious to get back to work she neither showered or brushed her hair.

Eli shook his head and returned to his Master's domain. Severus, who had gone inside expecting Hermione to take her hour out, handed Eli a parchment.

"Deliver this to Mrs. Weasley and impress upon her that she must read it and follow the instructions. It's from Bartleby," the wizard said to the elf, who took the parchment, bowed and winked out. He reappeared in Hermione's study. He walked up to the desk and watched as Hermione furiously leafed through a book for a moment.

"Miss, this is a very important message from Mr. Bartleby. You must reads it," the elf said, waving the parchment at her.

"Later," Hermione muttered.

Eli scowled and pointed a finger at the desk, whirling it. All the books and parchments floated up into the air beyond reach.

Hermione cursed.

"What the fuck are you doing? Can't you see I'm working?" she yelled at the elf.

His face frowned up, Eli shook the parchment at the witch.

"You must reads!" he declared.

Scowling, Hermione looked up at the floating research then snatched the parchment out of Eli's claw.

"Fine," she spat, tearing open the parchment and reading it. Her eyes widened.

"What? This is so inconvenient," she said, "Why do I have to put everything away?"

Bartleby's message said that workmen were coming to install a special unit in her bedroom this afternoon and that it was necessary for all paperwork, books and other objects to be in their proper places when they arrived. A representative site specialist from Sparse Venues would be accompanying them as well.

Bartleby worked quickly.

"Oh, this is bullshit," Hermione breathed, throwing the letter down. Eli lowered the research back to her desk and winked out.

According to the letter, the workmen would arrive "sometime" this afternoon. That could be in five minutes from now as far as Hermione knew. In bad temper, she put away her books, research and quills all in the proper places, then sat back down behind the desk, highly irritated.

What were they going to put in her bedroom anyway? Her bedroom? She could see something being installed in the work area or in the exercise area, but her bedroom? That seemed rather invasive. If she didn't like it, she was going to complain.

Hermione ran her hand through her tangled hair and sighed. Well, she wasn't going to be able to get anything done until the workmen arrived. She couldn't even study. After a minute or two she decided to go to the exercise room and take a little soak in the Jacuzzi. That might make her feel better. She walked into her bedroom to change.

* * *

Hermione woke up as the annoying female voice announced there were authorized visitors. She had fallen asleep in the Jacuzzi, and was now pruny from the neck down. She quickly climbed out of the tub, dried off and pulled on a long terrycloth robe over her one-piece bathing suit, tied the sash, slipped on a pair of shower shoes and hurried down the hall in time to see two burly wizards carrying a large box into her apartment. A third wizard with lank blonde hair and a white cap pulled down low on his eyes stood outside the door watching her approach.

He wore a white uniform and a name tag that read

**Sean U. Vespers  
SV Site Specialist  
**

"Mrs. Weasley?" he asked in a kind of raspy voice.

"Yes, that's me," Hermione said, looking up at him. She couldn't really see his face clearly.

"It will take about an hour to set up your Medi-Box," the wizard said.

"Medi-Box? Why in the world do I need a Medi-box?" Hermione asked him.

"I imagine to make sure you're healthy," Sean said in his strange voice, looking at her messy hair. "Sparse Venues takes care of their people."

The wizarding world had become more health-oriented and over the years the Ministry's Department of Health and Wizarding Services had taken to installing Medi-Boxes in stores, on street corners, in lobbies and other areas magical folks frequented. They were similar to blood pressure and weight machines distributed in muggle areas. Anyone could enter it and get a printout of their overall physical health and what needed improvement.

Sean entered the bedroom and stood aside, observing the two work wizards as they removed the Medi-Box from its packaging.

Hermione entered her bedroom and watched the workmen set the box up against a far wall. Hermione thought that should be it, but one of the workmen looked at a piece of parchment, then approached her.

"Can you show me where you keep your research in this apartment?" he asked her.

Hermione looked at him.

"Why?" she asked.

"It's part of the work order," he said obliquely as his partner walked up.

Hermione led them into the study and watched as each wizard took out a wand and began waving them about, over the books, desk, and file cabinets. Then they walked back into her bedroom and fiddled around with the Medi-Box. Then they left her apartment and again waved their wands around the entrances to her work areas, going from door to door. She noticed they didn't go to either the exercise room or Room of Requirement. Again, they returned to her bedroom and did a bit more magic over the Medi-Box. Finally, one of the work wizards walked up to Hermione and waved his wand over her. The tip of it glowed and turned blue. He carried the lighted wand over to the Medi-Box, pressed the tip against it and murmured an incantation. The entire box glowed blue, then the light faded.

He dusted off his hands and walked over to Hermione with a pen and a piece of parchment.

"That's it. Sign here, please," the wizard said, giving her his work order to sign off on.

Hermione did so, looking quite confused. The two wizards walked over to Sean, who also signed the order, then left the building, leaving Hermione alone with the specialist.

"Try it out," Sean rasped.

Hermione wrapped her terrycloth robe around herself and entered the Medi-Box. It covered her in a blue light, then the light ceased. A piece of parchment came out of the side of it. Sean ripped it off and read it as Hermione exited the box. She tried to read it too, but Sean held it away.

"Now, I want you to go take out the last thing you were working on," the wizard said in his strange voice.

Hermione walked into the study and attempted to open the file cabinet.

"It's stuck," she said, yanking on it.

"All right, get a book or something," Sean said.

Hermione walked over to the bookshelf and tried to take down the big book of plants she had been reading. She couldn't pull it off the shelf.

"What's going on here?" she demanded.

Sean walked to the apartment door.

"Come with me, Mrs. Weasley," he said, exiting the apartment and walking over to a door leading to the work area.

Frowning, Hermione followed him. He pointed at the first door to the Spells Lab.

"Open it," he said.

Hermione tried to open it, but found she couldn't.

She looked at the wizard, who wore a little smirk on his shadowed face.

"Now you tell me what's going on here!" she demanded.

He handed her the list the Medi-Box had printed out.

Hermione read it:

_Subject has to address the following issues before being authorized to begin work:_

_**Inadequate nourishment  
Personal Hygiene Body and Hair  
Lack of Exercise  
Proper Sleep**_

_Once these issues are addressed, access to research facilities will be granted._

Hermione looked at Sean outraged.

"What? I can't work?" she asked him.

"You can work, Mrs. Weasley, after you eat, shower, get some exercise and take a nap," the wizard replied, "After you do that and the Medi-Box finds you in good form, you can start working. It's for your own good," he said, beginning to walk up the hallway.

"But, but I know how to take care of myself. I don't need a damn Medi-Box to tell me what to do!" she called after him, seething.

Sean looked back at her.

"Apparently, you do," he said, then exited the building, the door closing behind him.

Pissed, Hermione stormed back into her apartment, straight into her bedroom and retrieved her wand. She walked back into the study and pulled up the sleeves of her terrycloth robe. She pointed her wand at the file cabinet.

"We'll see about this," she said, attempting to break the ward.

Suddenly a loud siren sounded and the familiar female voice spoke.

"Attempted use of unauthorized magic. Individualized Dampening Spell activated," it sang out.

Hermione's felt coldness wash over her, then her wand stopped working. She shook it and tried again. Nothing.

"Magic will be restored in two hours," the voice said.

Hermione let out an aggravated little scream. Her magic had been temporarily nullified. Damn it! She stood there, glaring at the file cabinet for a few moments, then sighed and headed for the kitchen.

If she wanted to get anything done, she had to eat, get a shower, brush her hair, maybe do a little bit of walking on the treadmill, then take a nap.

This sucked.

* * *

Once he got a good distance away from the site, Snape removed his glamour. He had enjoyed riling Hermione up. It reminded him of old times when she was his student. She still had a temper.

The magic that surrounded the building Hermione worked in had a deception ward that required a visitor to identify himself with his proper name. In his case, Snape used anagrams, which weren't considered deceptive by the wards. He wouldn't set off the alarms that way. Sean U. Vespers was Severus Snape rearranged. As far as the wards were concerned, it was still his name despite the spelling.

Working the Medi-Box results into the warding system of the building was a stroke of genius on the wizard's part. Now Hermione would have to take care of herself if she wanted to get anything done. Problem solved.

Smiling darkly, Snape made a beeline for his lab. He had potions to complete.

* * *

Later that evening, Eli popped in and made dinner. Hermione obediently, if sullenly ate her food. Then the elf produced a parchment.

"For the Miss," he said.

Hermione bad-temperedly took the parchment from the elf and opened it. She read it and smiled. It was from Rose and Hugo. They wanted to spend the weekend with her at Harry's house.

She quickly wrote them back and said she'd find out if it were all right with Harry, then wrote Harry asking him if it would be all right if the children stayed, then gave both parchments to Eli, who took them to be delivered. She was sure Harry and Ginny wouldn't mind at all.

Yes, she wanted to see her children and find out how they were doing.

Feeling better, Hermione sat back down at the desk and looked at all the paperwork she'd written out.

"I think that's enough feasibility writing for now. I really need to start studying. I've lost my focus," she said to herself.

Hermione put everything away, then combed the bookshelf, selecting a very large book entitled:

Advances in Charms Development over the Past Decade.

She checked the printing date. It was the latest edition.

Hermione walked into the living room, took a seat in the comfortable armchair and began to read, once again in her element.

* * *

A/N: lol. A Medi-Box. Why not? Too funny. Anyway, thanks for reading. 


	11. Defining Moment

**Chapter 10 Defining Moment (A Short Chapter)**

_A disillusioned Severus Snape walked across the grounds of Hogwarts, deep in thought. It had come down to it now. Mulciber had told him that the Dark Lord was willing to bring them in . . . all they had to do was take his Mark and they would become Death Eaters._

_Now the wizard walked through the darkness toward a copse of trees, considering whether or not he would indeed join the Dark Lord. The promise of power was appealing. Voldemort was strong, more powerful than any wizard, possibly even stronger than Albus Dumbledore. His methods were harsh, but in a war things had to be done harshly, to prove a point, to break the morale of those who would challenge them._

_His mind shifted to Lily. She hadn't spoken to him or acknowledged him for months, turning her green eyes away any time he met them. Lily wouldn't approve of this. Of his joining the fight with Voldemort. Why he should care, he didn't know. He noticed James Potter around her more often, solicitous, charming, making the witch smile with his comments. How could she even talk to that arrogant bastard? She knew what he was capable of. How he targeted him._

_Snape scowled as he entered the copse of trees. His cloak snagged on a bush and he pulled it away…_

_"James? James is that you?" a familiar female voice called out in a loud, worried whisper._

_Snape knew that voice._

_Lily._

_What was she doing out here?_

_Snape ducked down into the bushes and peered out. Lily was standing under a tree, looking around nervously. His black eyes narrowed. James? She was out here alone in the dark waiting for James Potter?_

_Suddenly, from the right, James Potter appeared, striding up to Lily._

_"You came," he said, amazement in his voice as he stopped before the witch, "Oh Lily. You came."_

_"Yes. I wanted to . . ." she said softly, stepping forward._

_Snape watched, a hard knot forming in his belly as the couple embraced and kissed passionately._

_"No. No, Lily," he breathed as he watched James begin to caress her, turning her around and pressing her body up against the trunk of the tree._

_Snape watched as the couple sank to the ground, watched the fluttering of discarded robes, the furious tangling of limbs, the flash of pale bodies moving rhythmically in the moonlight, Lily's voice rising and falling in counterpoint to his hated nemesis' passionate gasps . . ._

_If was as if Severus Snape's very heart was torn from his chest as he watched James Potter claim what he himself had always desired but never had the nerve to openly admit. Lily. His beautiful Lily._

_His eyes wet, Snape turned away, not wanting to see any more, blindly rushing through the brush, then running toward the castle, his disillusioned robes billowing, running toward solace . . . toward darkness._

_Breathlessly he burst into the Slytherin common room. Avery and Mulciber were seated on a sofa, talking quietly to each other. No one else was about. It was after curfew. Both of them looked up at their comrade._

_"Severus, we wondered where you went," Avery said to the pale, stricken wizard._

_"Yeah, what were you up to?" Mulciber asked him, frowning slightly._

_He hadn't liked the fact that Snape didn't show much enthusiasm when told they were to be accepted into the Death Eater circle. He shouldn't have hesitated. Hesitation was not good._

_Snape swooped toward them, his black eyes hard, his face set like stone._

_"I'll take the Mark," he breathed, "I wish to be in his service. Death to mudbloods! Long live the Dark Lord!"_

* * *

Snape awoke, gasping in the darkness and wishing he could have given Harry all of his memories. He didn't dream of Lily often, but when he did, the pain was still there, sharp, hurtful and all too real. Some of the pain was lessened, the pain connected with the memories he gave Harry. He still remembered, but the ache was dulled since the essence had been passed on to another. But this, this memory retained its bite.

The wizard reached into his nightstand and pulled out a small bottle, uncapped it and took a swallow. It would help him have a dreamless sleep so he did not fall into that painful moment again. The wisest thing would be to remove all the remaining memories of Lily Potter to a Pensieve, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, not even after all these years. He still lived with his bitterness and guilt.

The dark wizard lay back down and waited for sleep to return and the ghost of Lily Potter to fade back into the recesses of his mind until her next haunting.

* * *

A/N: Hermione isn't the only one with memories. Thanks for reading. 


	12. Making Peace

**Chapter 11 Making Peace**

"A Medi-Box?" Harry repeated, looking at Ginny for a moment, who was trying to keep a straight face. They were all sitting at the kitchen table at Harry's house, Hugo and Rose with them, completely enthralled by their mother's description of what it was like at her job.

Ginny's attempt at not laughing didn't work and after her outburst, all of them with the exception of Hermione dissolved into hysterical laughter.

"Finally, someone's figured out how to make you bathe when you're working on a project!" Harry guffawed as Hermione scowled at all of them, "Gods knew we used to run the other way when we saw you coming with your hair all tangled up and arms full of books."

Harry and Ginny shook their heads at the memory.

"It's not that funny!" she exclaimed, looking pointedly at Hugo and Rose who were both laughing behind their hands.

"Mum, you really didn't shower when you worked on something? That's just…ew, mum," Hugo said, looking delighted at the thought that his normally impeccable mum could spiral down in such a manner. Like most boys, Hugo didn't like showering too much, though he did it more often now, starting to notice witches and all.

"It's not that I didn't shower purposely, Hugo. It was just that I was very, very focused," Hermione told him with a scowl.

"And very, very smelly, mum," Rose chuckled.

Hermione looked at her children, then suddenly realized this was the first time they laughed together since Ron had died. She couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, well those fragrant days are over now. I can't open a drawer or pick up a quill without eating, showering or getting my sleep out. I even have to exercise and go out and get fresh air," she said.

Hugo thought this was good. Even though it was funny his mum became such a mess when she focused on something, it really wasn't good for her. He was glad the place she worked for looked out for her so much.

"Did you try to outsmart the wards, mum?" Rose asked her.

"Yes, I did. When I tried to break the ward on the file cabinet, my magic was nullified for two hours. I couldn't do anything," she said darkly.

"Wow," Hugo said, impressed.

Harry shook his head.

"They have some powerful magic at Sparse Venues," he said as Ginny nodded agreement.

"Did you try leaving your work out overnight?" the redheaded witch asked her.

Hermione nodded.

"Yep. Everything was locked up tight the next morning. I think there is some kind of summoning spell on everything related to work or research," Hermione said.

Harry studied Hermione. She did look nice and healthy.

"Have you looked around the grounds?" Hugo asked her, "Tried to go into any of the warded areas?"

Hermione frowned at him. She had, but she wasn't about to tell her son she blatantly tried to break the rules and snoop.

Hermione did try and sneak into an area that had a number of "Keep Out" signs around it. It just looked like a meadow to her. The minute she stepped over the ward line, she was covered in what she could only describe as "pink bubble gum" and rooted to the spot. Then she found out what happened when she wasn't back at the building by one o'clock.

It seemed research wasn't the only thing under a Summoning Charm. With a screech, Hermione was torn from the ground, still covered in the sticky mess and flew toward the building, weaving around trees and other obstacles and flying backwards through the door. She was caught by a kind of big, soft mitt that disappeared immediately.

"Mrs. Weasley has returned," the female voice said as the door closed. Hermione could have sworn it was holding back laughter.

It took Hermione two hours to scrub all the gum off her. Scourgify just didn't do it properly. Probably on purpose.

In his home, Snape was doubled over with laughter. The moment Hermione had tried to enter one of his glamoured fields, she had been covered in a sticky sap that rendered her immobile. He had a mirror that would show intruders and the wizard guffawed helplessly as the witch stood there wide-eyed and shocked, covered in the stuff, then was whisked back to the site.

He had changed the wards to not cause injury. They were far nastier before Hermione came to work for him. He remembered her curious nature and made an adjustment for it. Gods, she was entertaining. Snape wiped the tears from his eyes and fell into the armchair, trying to catch his breath. He hadn't laughed like that for many, many years.

"Of course I didn't try to enter restricted areas, Hugo," Hermione said to her son, "I know the rules and follow them, just like I expect you and Rose to do when you come stay with me for the summer."

Harry and Ginny rolled their eyes as Hermione declared her rule-following ways. This was Hermione. Hermione was a snoop and her desire for knowledge was not just regulated to books. Two to one she tried to cross one of those wards.

Harry was about to call Hermione on this when there was a quick knock on the front door, then it flew open, Molly Weasley entering. Everyone fell silent as she approached, her hands on her hips.

"So, you decided to come here instead of the Burrow," she said to Hermione.

"Yes. I wanted to see Harry and Ginny. I planned to visit the Burrow later this month," Hermione said.

Molly saw Hugo and Rose and immediately walked over and kissed them up, Hugo frowning as she made loud kissing noises against his cheeks.

"Ah, my grandbabies. How is school?" she asked them fondly.

"Fine," both children said at the same time.

"We were going to come over tomorrow, Grandmum," Hugo said to her, hoping that she didn't think they weren't going to see her, "We just wanted to spend some time with mum today and hear about her job. It's really great. They make her shower and everything."

Molly looked at Hermione with wide eyes as the witch turned red, pinched her nose and scowled at Hugo. Rose covered her mouth with her hand, and both Harry and Ginny sucked their lips in to keep from laughing.

Molly's lips trembled as she fought to keep from laughing. She remembered Ron coming home and complaining about Hermione stinking to high heaven because she was working on a project and how he couldn't get away from her because she was his partner and insisted he stay with her. Eventually, Molly taught him a discreet little freshening charm that he used whenever he found himself in that pungent situation.

"Sounds perfect," Molly said, smiling at Hermione, then reaching into the large bag she carried on her arm.

"I brought you all some homemade treacle tarts," she announced, pulling out a foil wrapped bundle and passing it to Harry, whose mouth watered.

"Thanks mum," he said, opening the package and taking a tart, passing it to Ginny who also plucked one out and passed them around.

Hermione smiled back at Molly as she took a tart. This was the matriarch's way of making peace. Feeding her.

Molly sat down and looked at Hermione expectantly.

"So, tell me about this job," she said to her daughter-in-law.

* * *

Later that evening, Molly and Hermione sat at the kitchen table alone. Ginny was in the laundry room folding clothing magically. Harry, Rose and Hugo were outside playing three-man Quidditch. Hugo didn't make the team this year, but Rose did. She was a chaser and a good one. At first, Hugo was quite upset about it…it was his idea to try out after all, but he got over it and spent a lot of time helping Rose practice, taking the spot of personal trainer. 

"Come on, Rose! Put some speed on it! Gods!" he'd shout at her as he threw the Quaffle past her as hard as he could.

Rose wasn't going to take the position at first, but after all the cajoling and pleading from her fellow Gryffindors, she did. And found that she really enjoyed it. They had a game coming up with Hufflepuff next weekend.

Students were still sorted into Houses at Hogwarts. It seemed that the protection Harry gave them when he willingly sacrificed himself to Voldemort at the Final Battle, extended not only to others but to the Sorting Hat itself. After being set aflame on Neville's head and thrown down when the young wizard threw off the spell, the flames dissipated, leaving the Hat unharmed and able to produce the Sword of Gryffindor, which Neville used to destroy the final Horcrux . . . Nagini. So the houses remained, as did the rivalries.

Molly looked at Hermione.

"You really like your job, don't you Hermione?" Molly asked the witch.

Hermione certainly looked well. Not as drawn as she was after Ron's death.

"Yes, I really do, Molly," she replied, "and I don't intend to neglect the children. I really don't."

Molly gave her a small, sad smile.

"I know, Hermione. You're a good mother, and you did everything you were supposed to do concerning those children and Ron. You made them a good and happy home, and were there for them. I was just…just acting out. Ron is gone and it felt as if you were leaving too, dear. You have to make a way now and you were right. Ron would be glad to know you found something you loved to do and support the family. I just…just didn't want to let you move on. But we all have to move on, don't we?" she said to Hermione, her brown eyes glistening.

Hermione reached out and covered Molly's hand with her own.

"Yes, we do," she said softly, "We move on . . . but we remember where we've been, what we've come from and who we've met along the way. They stay with us, Molly. Always."

Hermione was thinking of Ron, Fred, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore and the many others who had fallen so many years ago, fallen in the name of the Greater Good. Her eyes filled as they met Molly's.

The two witches sat there in companionable silence, separate yet together, words no longer necessary as their hearts spoke volumes.

* * *

Hermione returned to work and spent the next couple of weeks hitting the books and writing her feasibility reports, but in a more controlled and thoughtful manner. Taking care of herself helped her thought processes immensely and she learned to balance her time properly. Actually, she went back to scheduling, which she found quite effective in managing her time. 

When the time for her testing came, Hermione aced the test. Bartleby contacted her and had her come to his office by special dispensation and told her she had gotten an almost perfect score.

"Almost?" Hermione said, scowling, "What did I get wrong?"

"That doesn't matter. It was a small thing. Nothing important. You are a full employee of Sparse Venues now. You'll have a few days to yourself as your reports are examined. I will contact you when your first project is chosen," Bartleby said to the witch with a smile, "Congratulations, Mrs. Weasley."

Still scowling, Hermione thanked him and returned to the site.

"Almost? I know I aced that test. My answers were perfect. Perfect," she growled to herself as she stalked inside, the door closing behind her.

Disillusioned, Snape watched the witch enter the building. By the stiff, angry way she was walking, she wasn't happy with almost perfect marks. She never was.

And that was all he ever gave her when she was his student at Hogwarts. It was his way of making sure Hermione continued to work hard. He gave her a goal.

Apparently, his marking methods hadn't changed.

The wizard smirked, then headed back to his home. He had narrowed the possible projects down to three. He was most impressed with the first report Hermione did, the one that had consumed her. The witch's enthusiasm for the project clearly showed in her study. There were challenges, but more important, success in the growing Charm would act as a springboard for the other Charms the Professor would like created. She would be able to utilize aspects of it with other spells.

The time frame for the spell's completion was two years. Bartleby would probably protest that, but Snape knew time was necessary for perfection. And Hermione was a perfectionist. Besides, he was still producing potions and they were receiving plenty of residuals. Paying Hermione's salary was no problem at all, especially since her success would improve business in the end and allow for further expansion.

Bartleby would just have to grin and bear it.

The Potions Master knew what he was doing.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	13. A Close Call

**Chapter 12 A Close Call**

A week later, Hermione received a thick envelope from Bartleby outlining the first project she was to work on, the plant growing charm. She would be given a list of plants that would be planted in the indoor growing area in the coming weeks. The planting would be overseen by Sean Vespers, the wizard who was present when the Medi-Box was installed in her bedroom.

A Time Turner and the other items she listed would be provided as well, and she was to fill out the order form in the storage room for any other items she would need during. Bartleby also commented on the time frame, saying it was acceptable, but any effort to "speed up the process" would be appreciated.

Hermione scowled at this. Creating a completely new Charm took time. No doubt Snape would have agreed with her. This was Bartleby's way of trying to impose his own will on the project. He was always thinking bottom line. Snape would be willing to wait five years if the spell were viable at the end. And Snape was who really mattered.

The following week a horde of wizards descended on the work site, plants, soils and wands in tow, Sean Vespers with them. Hermione greeted him a bit sourly because of how flippant he was the last time he was there. The wizard took it in stride, his hat pulled down over his eyes as usual.

Snape didn't look too much like himself with the glamour, but his eyes were still black and there weren't many black-eyed blondes. He tried his best not to interact with Hermione because although his voice was altered, there was little he could do about his mannerisms and he thought she might catch something familiar about him and if there was one thing he didn't want, it was that brilliant mind focusing itself on him. So for the most part, he stood in one area and watched the men work.

However, Hermione was full of questions.

"What kind of plants are they planting?" she asked him.

"You'll get a list when they finish," he rasped at her, wishing she'd go find something to do.

Hermione looked at him curiously.

"How long have you worked for Sparse Venues, Mr. Vespers?" the witch inquired.

"A long time," he said shortly.

"Oh," Hermione said, watching a wizard flinch as a large Snapdragon flamed at him. Some of those plants were dangerous.

"Mandrakes!" another wizard called out, "Plug up your ears!"

Hermione and Sean left the room, the wizard closing the door. The room was sound-proofed so they were safe.

"They're planting full-grown Mandrakes?" Hermione asked Sean.

He shook his head.

"No. Young ones. They can still cause unconsciousness with their screams," he said.

Hermione had the distinct impression Sean didn't want to talk to her, but she didn't get a chance to talk to anyone during the week so wanted a bit of conversation.

"Mr. Vespers, would you like to come to my apartment for a spot of tea?" she asked him.

"No thank you," he replied, "I'm just supposed to oversee the work and leave."

Hermione frowned at him for a moment. Then her curiosity got the better of her.

"What's wrong with your voice?" she asked the wizard.

He looked at her from beneath his hat, then pulled down the collar of his uniform, showing her an ugly scar on the right side of his throat. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, embarrassed at asking him something so personal.

Snape figured she'd ask him about the way he talked and had been prepared. He didn't reply.

Figuring she had embarrassed herself enough for one day, Hermione excused herself and returned to her apartment to look over her project paperwork again. Snape let out a sigh of relief.

"She's still nosey as hell," he muttered to herself.

Actually, Snape had been tempted to join the witch for tea. He didn't have any human contact at all outside of the occasional whore, and it might have been nice to sit down and have tea and cakes with intelligent company. But again, Hermione was too sharp to risk that. All she needed was one idle suspicion to focus on and it would be off to the races.

In fact, one might wonder about Snape's choice of hiring a witch as bright as Hermione, someone who knew him for seven years. He could have hired anyone. He told himself it was because she was so brilliant that he took her on, but possibly…it was more than that. Hermione was a danger to him in that it wouldn't take her long to figure out who he was if she put her mind to it. He also could have hired a real site supervisor rather than take on the job himself. Yes, he did have a controlling nature and liked to be present when any changes were being made, but he could have even used mirrors for that. The truth was, Severus Snape was becoming tired of his solitary, austere lifestyle. Initially, all he wanted was to be left alone, a natural result of so many years of service to the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore. He had the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders for a good portion of his life and living without that responsibility felt like heaven for the past few years.

But Severus Snape was a human being … and even he needed contact. The whores sufficed for a while although those engagements hardly fed his other needs. There was an underlying sense of dissatisfaction growing in the wizard, though he wouldn't allow himself to recognize it. He had intended to live out his live in quiet seclusion, but two decades was a long, long time and people change over time. Besides, he still had about one hundred and forty-odd years of life left to live if he took care of himself, which he did. That was a long time to be in hiding.

Seeing a familiar face from the past had awakened the urge for more, but rather than face the truth of his situation, the wizard had actually set himself up for discovery. It was almost like a game. He knew … he had to know that sooner or later, Hermione Weasley was going to want to know more about everything. If she ever picked up on that anagram …

Many people in the world are guilty of self-sabotage, and Severus Snape was firmly among the ranks.

Hermione was definitely going to figure this out.

The only question was: When?

* * *

Rose and Huge had only been on the work site for one day before they returned to the building covered in pink bubble gum-like sap. Neither one of them could resist the big "Keep Out" signs surrounding a meadow.

"One, two, three!" Hugo shouted as they both ran into the clearing.

Hermione was in her lab working when they knocked on the door. She opened it and stared at her children. They looked like pink blobs, only their eyes and noses showing. Then the taller blob formed a gummy mouth.

"Um…we must have accidentally crossed a ward line," Rose said sheepishly.

"This is cool!" Hugo said, lifting one gummy arm, long strands of gum still connected to his side, "And mum, we flew back here and were caught in a big mitt! This place is great!"

Hermione yelled at them and sent Rose into the apartment and Hugo into the exercise room to shower after scourgifying what she could off of them. They were put on punishment for the rest of the day. They suffered in the Room of Requirement, playing two-man Quidditch. They could fly in there, though their brooms wouldn't work anywhere outside.

Hugo was going to his third year now, and Rose into her fifth. They were growing up. Hermione hoped they learned their lesson concerning staying out of restricted areas.

Of course they didn't, but got a little smarter about it, throwing sticks over the lines and watching what happened to them.

Snape, who had harvested most of the plants, spent quite a bit of time disillusioned and watching the pair. They certainly were scamps. One day, he went out early and adapted the wards to only work on living objects, then waited for the pair to arrive. Rose and Hugo would always recheck the warded areas just to see if the wards were all working and they did it methodically.

Hugo chucked a stick into the warded area that got them the first day they were there. Nothing happened to it.

"Rose! I think the wards are down," he said to his sister enthusiastically.

But Rose looked suspicious.

"I don't know Hugo…it could just be temporary," she said to her brother, who frowned at her.

"Stop being such a girl!" he complained, stepping over the ward line.

Snape, who was disillusioned and hiding behind a tree nearby, watched with a wicked smirk as nothing happened to Hugo. The dark wizard had moved the ward line back a ways as well, to lure them in.

Hugo spread his arms.

"See! It's fine, Rose…come on, let's see why this place is warded," he begged his sister.

Rose looked around suspiciously, then tentatively stepped over the ward line, holding her breath. Again, nothing happened.

"See?" Hugo said, grabbing her hand, "Come on, let's go."

He pulled her along.

They had taken about ten steps when they were both covered in gum again and stuck in place.

"Oh damn!" Rose hissed as they were ripped from the ground and whisked back to the work site, Hugo screaming "This is so cool!" as they flew around trees and other obstacles.

Snape cracked up and headed back to his lab. Oh, that was almost like the good old days of giving his students what for. He really was enjoying Hermione's children being on the property. He always believed he didn't like children much, but that was because he was swamped up to his armpits in the little buggers for years and in a position of authority. Now that they were someone else's problem, he found they weren't half bad.

At least from a distance.

* * *

Hugo and Rose spent an interesting summer with Hermione, though she worked quite a bit. They visited family and friends as well, telling them exciting stories about the protections around Sparse Venues. Not only were there pink gum wards, but rope wards, itching wards and even one terrible illusion of a salivating Manticora bearing down on them. It disappeared when they reached the building. It was only when they were inside panting that they realized it never seemed to actually gain on them.

Cousins James, Albus and Lily were so jealous.

"I want to visit Aunt Hermione," Lily said to her father.

Harry shook his head.

"I think only immediate family can go on site, Lily. I'm sorry," he said to his daughter who glared at Hugo, who had a smug "I'm special" look on his face.

"Who wants to be covered in pink bubble gum anyway? It's stupid," she said sourly, jumping up from the table and leaving the kitchen.

Hugo smiled after her, his smile fading as he saw Harry scowling at him.

"Pink bubble gum's not so great," he offered with a shrug.

Harry shook his head.

* * *

Hermione made slow progress with the Charm, though after a year she had managed to get the Mandrakes to grow three times faster than usual. But it was dangerous work, because she never knew exactly how big they'd be when she pulled them out of the ground. She just treated them all as if they were deadly.

She sent updates and copies of her notes to Bartleby, who passed them on to Snape who ignored the solicitor's nagging about the time being spent on the project. He was quite pleased with her work, though he told Bartleby to tell Hermione to focus on growing the Jaberia plants. They were worth more as ingredients than Mandrakes. Glad at being able to give Hermione a direct order, Bartleby did so and the witch got right on it.

The following summer, both Hugo and Rose returned to the site and promptly set about testing the wards again. Rose had a bit of ward-breaking under her belt now and was anxious to try out her skills.

Since most of his fields were harvested by summer, Snape purposely relaxed a few the wards and the dampening fields a bit, so they wouldn't go off instantaneously when Rose attempted to crack them. But then, he made a grave error in judgment . . . one that almost cost Hugo his life.

Snape had weakened the ward that protected the mountainside … the side that was climbable, not thinking that the boy would attempt to climb up the mountain. When Rose broke the ward, Hugo ran through and began climbing, grabbing on to outcrops and finding little ledges with his feet.

"Hugo! You're going too high! Come down!" Rose yelled up at him.

"I'm fine, sis!" Hugo called down.

Snape watched him, concerned as the boy's foot slipped and he dangled for a moment, Rose screaming at him to come down. She even tried to Accio him, but Snape had kept up the dampening field for most magic and the spell wouldn't work.

"Hugo! Come down!" Rose yelled at him, terrified.

But Hugo was determined to go as high as he could and was about four stories up when it happened. His hand and foot slipped at the same time and he fell.

Rose screamed in horror as she watched her brother plummeting toward the ground.

His eyes wide in terror, Hugo realized he was going to die. Poor mum.

Suddenly, he wasn't falling anymore. Someone had him. Someone who was disillusioned … disillusioned and flying.

"Who are you?" Hugo asked, clutching at a hard, lean body as he drifted slowly to the ground.

"Stay off the mountain you idiot boy before you kill yourself!" a silky voice hissed as Hugo was set down a short distance from his sister, who was running toward them.

The shimmer disapparated with a crack of thunder. No one was supposed to be able to disapparate here. Or be disillusioned.

Rose ran up to Hugo and threw her arms around him, crying and squeezing him so hard he could hardly breathe.

"What happened? How did you stop falling?" she finally asked him, her eyes filled with tears.

"Somebody caught me," Hugo said, looking around, "And he could fly without a broom."

Rose stared at him. Fly?

"And he called me an 'idiot boy,'" the young wizard said, "then disapparated."

"I heard it," Rose said, "Come on. We'd better tell mum."

Hugo stalled.

"But I'm going to get in trouble," he said, "We both are."

Rose frowned at her brother.

"I don't care, Hugo. There's somebody out here that mum doesn't know about. We don't know if he's a spy or what. We have to tell her. He could be dangerous," the witch said.

"If he were dangerous, he wouldn't have saved me," Hugo argued, following his sister as she walked determinedly back toward the building.

"Mum still needs to know," Rose said.

Hugo followed his sister, his feet dragging.

Mum was going to have a bugbear.

* * *

A/N: For you Jen. Thanks for reading all. 


	14. WTF?

**Chapter 13 WTF???**

Hugo was wrong. Hermione didn't have bugbears, she had a full battalion of fire-breathing dragons.

"What the HELL were you thinking Rose?" she yelled at her daughter as both she and Hugo sat on the couch in the living room, looking properly ashamed.

It wasn't working.

"I just wanted to see how good my ward-breaking skills were, mum," Rose replied, her eyes glistening.

"You could have gotten your brother killed!" Hermione yelled, then she looked at Hugo.

"Did she unward your brain as well? What the hell were you thinking climbing up that high, Hugo? Your father died in a fall!" she said to him.

Hugo looked at her miserably.

"I'm sorry, mum," he said sullenly, "I just wanted to see how high I could go."

Hermione scowled at him.

"It's obvious now, isn't it? High enough to get yourself killed. Now your wands. Both of them," she said, holding out her hands.

Hugo and Rose handed them over.

"From now on, no wands for you two. You can't be trusted," Hermione seethed.

Hugo and Rose just looked at her for a moment.

"But mum, what about whoever saved me? Do you know who it was?" he asked his mother.

Hermione calmed somewhat. She hadn't even thought about it because she was so angry at her children. All she registered was Hugo falling off the mountain.

"Tell me what happened again … no …wait," she said, moving closer to Hugo and pocketing their wands, then pulling out her own.

"Legilimens," she said.

Hermione watched what happened, Hugo climbing up the mountainside while Rose screamed at him to come down. Hermione's heart thudded as she saw how high he climbed. Then suddenly he fell.

Hermione watched in horror as Hugo plummeted downward, then suddenly he stopped, his arms wrapped around a shimmer.

"Who are you?" Hugo asked.

"Stay off the mountain you idiot boy before you kill yourself!" a silken voice hissed.

Hermione pulled out of Hugo's mind. She was white as a sheet.

"No. No, it couldn't be," she said in a low voice.

"What mum?" Rose asked her mother, both she and Hugo alarmed at her change in color and the wild look in her eyes.

Hermione looked at her children as if she'd never seen them before, then she looked around her apartment, then at her desk were her notes were laid out. She looked back at Hugo and Rose.

"You're both going to have to go stay at the Burrow with your grandmother and grandfather," she said to them.

"What? No, mum. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I won't climb the mountain anymore. I'll stay inside the whole time," Hugo said, pleading with Hermione.

But Rose was staring at her mother. She instinctively knew this was about more than Hugo's near-fatal accident.

"Mum, are we in danger?" she asked her mother.

Hermione looked at her.

"I don't know, Rose, but I want you and Hugo to get all your things together. I'm going to contact Bartleby and get permission for you to leave immediately.

Rose looked at her mother.

"Come with us, mum. If something's going on here, you'll be all alone," the witch said.

Hermione shook her head.

"I'll be fine, Rose. I just need you and Hugo to go. I'll contact you in a couple of days," she said, "Now go get your things together."

Rose and Hugo obeyed their mother, though Hugo dragged his feet.

"I told you not to tell her," he hissed at Rose.

"Hugo, this is about more than you falling off that mountain. Mum knows something," Rose said.

Hermione quickly wrote a letter to Bartleby asking for emergency permission to send her children away. She called Eli, who instantly appeared and told him to get the letter delivered immediately.

"I need an answer right away, Eli. I need permission to send my children to their grandmother's house," Hermione told him, impressing the importance of this.

"Yes, Miss," Eli said, winking out.

Rose and Hugo returned to the living room, everything miniaturized. Both looked upset. They were about to become more upset.

"Hugo, you and Rose are to tell NO ONE what happened today. Not about the mountain and definitely not about being saved," Hermione told them, "I can't stress how important this is. Tell your grandmother that some very important and potentially dangerous work came up and I felt it safer if you two stayed with her. I will write her later myself. Do you understand me…you can't tell anyone!"

Hugo and Rose looked at their mother worriedly. Why couldn't they tell anyone? Molly was going to question them to pieces trying to find out what the dangerous project was Hermione was working on.

"Promise me you won't say anything," Hermione demanded of the children, her eyes hard.

Hugo swallowed. He had never seen his mother act this way before. It was as if their lives depended on their silence. He hoped that wasn't the case.

"All right, mum. I won't tell anyone, but will you let us know what's going on?" he asked her, "I'm kind of scared."

Hermione's eyes softened.

"Yes, I will tell you when I find out myself," she promised, "Rose, I need your promise too."

Rose nodded.

"I won't tell anyone, mum," she said.

"Good girl. Now we just have to wait for Bartleby to arrange for you to be able to travel," Hermione said, sitting down across from them and falling silent, lost in her own thoughts.

Hugo and Rose looked at each other, then their mother, worry etched in their faces.

* * *

Eli returned to Snape, who was sitting in front of the fireplace drinking his third firewhiskey, the bottle on the table next to him. The elf studied him. 

"Master, the Miss sends the children away," the elf said.

"She would. She's on to me," the wizard replied, his voice thick. He took another sip of his drink, finishing it and instantly pouring another one, "Go and take the letter to Bartleby and tell him I said to let them leave immediately."

"Yes sir," Eli said, winking out.

An hour later, both Hugo and Rose were gone.

Hermione sat down at her desk and looked at her project folder, the name "Sparse Venues" printed across it in block letters. She stared at it.

"Sparse Venues," she breathed, picking up a quill and tapping each letter with it before transposing them and writing down the name.

She blinked down at it.

"A specialized Bezoar stone was the first patent," she said to herself, "He's alive. He disappeared and started this business. Professor Snape is alive."

Hermione might not have ever thought Hugo's savior was the Potions master, even with the silken voice, if not for that one term he had used constantly over the years when she was a student at Hogwarts.

Idiot Boy.

Snape had used that term on Harry so often someone might have thought it was his actual name. But Hermione did know that voice. That hiss. Professor Snape didn't die that fateful night of Voldemort's fall. He saved himself with a specialized Bezoar stone and disappeared. That's why there was no body. That's why his portrait didn't move.

He was still alive.

Hermione blinked down at the name scrawled under "Sparse Venues."

Not only was he alive, but he had saved her son's life.

This was big. Really big. The entire wizarding world would be thrown into an uproar if it was found out Professor Severus Snape, hero wizard, was alive and well.

Hermione swallowed.

And Harry . . . how would this affect Harry, who had named his second son after the wizard? Who found out that Snape had loved his mother for many, many years and did all he did for him because of that love? How would he take it?

Hermione sat there, staring.

Professor Snape was the one who gave her this job. She thought back, remembering the day of Ron's burial, the tall wizard standing next to the tombstone. Could that have been the Professor as well? Now that she thought about it, it could have been.

And the newspaper ad for the job…she had asked everyone she knew if they had sent it to her. Everyone said they didn't. Had Snape sent it in order to get her to apply?

Hermione sat there, still thinking.

Sparse Venues was started about a year after his supposed death, as a corporation using the proceeds from the specialized Bezoar stone. Bartleby had been with the company the entire time. It had minimal officers, just enough to keep it legal. She bet Snape was one of those officers, the director and Bartleby probably served as secretary as well.

She had never looked into the name of the director, but she'd bet her last broomstick the name would be an anagram of Severus Snape…like…like…

Hermione froze.

Like Sean U Vespers.

Oh dear gods. Vespers was Snape. She was sure of it.

Hermione took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She didn't want to go barreling into this. She needed to think of a plan to make the Professor reveal himself to her. She wouldn't say anything to Bartleby about this. Not to anyone.

She wanted to be the first person to see Professor Severus Snape after more than two decades.

She'd make sure she would be. The witch pulled her wand out of her pocket and walked into her bedroom, stopping in front of the Medi-Box. She pointed her wand at it.

"Reducto!" Hermione cried, blasting a hole in it. The blue light flared brightly for a moment then dimmed.

Hermione jumped as all kinds of sirens and bells sounded and the female voice screeched, "Breach! Breach! All research facilities and materials warded until further notice!"

Hermione listened to the din, a half smile on her face.

It looked like Mr. Sean U. Vespers was going to have to make a house call.

* * *

A/N: We're moving along now, aren't we? Short chappie but am feeling achy and had to pop a handful of tylenols. Couldn't think of a better title for this chapter though. Lol. Thanks for reading. 


	15. Revealed

**Chapter 14 Revealed**

Severus was vaguely aware the alarm system was going off at the building site, and unsteadily rose, feeling the effect of four firewhiskeys drank in quick succession. He walked over to the far wall and looked at the little maintenance board, studying the name next to the flashing red light and saw immediately the Medi-Box had malfunctioned.

"It can wait until tomorrow," he muttered, pressing the button to stop the alert, then slowly walking back and dropping into the armchair again. "She won't die from self-neglect overnight. Eli!"

The elf immediately appeared at his side with a sandwich, offering it to the wizard. Snape looked at him then gestured for the elf to set it on the table. Eli did so and looked at him expectantly.

"Go inform Mrs. Weasley someone will be over to look at her Medi-Box in the morning," he told the elf.

"Yes, sir," Eli said, winking out.

Snape ran one pale hand over his face and stared into the fire. He'd had enough firewhiskey. Getting drunk wasn't going to change anything. He picked up the sandwich and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully.

The Potions master was sure Hermione was on to him now. He had been so upset at Hugo that he lashed out without thinking. If only he hadn't responded to the boy. But he was so stupid, the Professor couldn't help chastising him and did so in his signature manner. Old habits were hard to break and his response had been like breathing.

Idiot boy.

Hell, Hugo was an idiot.

Well, he was in for it now. It was only a matter of time before the confrontation.

Snape sat there in silence.

Only a matter of time before his continued existence would become common knowledge. Dear gods, he only hoped he could somehow avoid the media circus his life would become. He'd have to reinstall the nastier wards. No doubt the Paparazzi would be out in full effect, and they were quite creative when finding ways to crash a wizard's privacy.

Hmm. Well, maybe it would be good for business. People actually looking for Sparse Venue products because he owned it and everyone would want a piece of history. Yes, that could be a benefit.

Actually, Snape felt he'd be able to deal with most of the hoopla. It was the personal interactions he really didn't want to face . . . one person in particular.

Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived.

Snape had seen the ad Harry ran in the Daily Prophet offering five thousand galleons for the return of his body. No doubt the wizard had felt a sense of responsibility and remorse concerning him once he learned the truth of his relationship with his mother. No doubt seeing Harry would open up those old wounds, not that they ever had completely closed in the first place.

He still didn't want them ripped open wider. Lily was a dull ache beneath his every thought and action. Something he could never find closure on. Even helping Harry kill her murderer didn't serve to absolve him of his guilt, or his love. If only he could have told her how he felt . . . just once. Not that it would have probably made a difference, but still he would have let it out of his heart and received some kind of answer from her. He could have learned how she felt and why.

He would never, ever know.

He began to blink rapidly. Damn it. He hated to think about Lily. It was so fucking painful.

He finished his sandwich and went to bed.

* * *

The noise blaring around Hermione suddenly stopped and Eli winked in. The elf looked at the blasted Medi-Box with wide eyes, then at Hermione.

"Someone will comes tomorrow to fix the box, Miss," the elf said to the witch.

"Tomorrow? What about tonight?" Hermione demanded.

"You will not dies before the box is fixed, Miss," Eli said to her, frowning slightly.

It was clear to see she had purposely hexed the box.

"Will Mr. Vespers be coming?" Hermione asked the elf.

"Someone will comes," Eli said evasively.

"I want Mr. Vespers. I have some questions for him," Hermione said sharply.

The reason she blasted the box in the first place was to get Snape here.

"I will passes that on," Eli said, preparing to wink out.

"Hold it, Eli. I want to ask you something," Hermione said to the elf, whose ears flicked toward her. "Where do you go when you aren't here?"

"I goes to where I belongs, Miss," the elf replied.

Hermione scowled at him.

"And where is that?" she asked him.

Eli gave her a smirk.

"Where I belongs," he said, winking out.

"Ooh," Hermione hissed, stamping her foot as she stared at the empty space where the elf stood a second before. "He's no help at all."

Hermione walked back into the living room and sat down on the sofa. There was nothing more she could do other than think and wait. She wasn't sure what she was going to do when "Mr. Vespers" showed up, if he showed up. If he didn't, then Hermione could assume Snape knew she was on to him and was purposely avoiding him. If that was the case, she would have to go to Bartleby.

She still was reeling from the enormity of her discovery. She worked for Severus Snape. Merlin's plaited beard. Now that she knew this, she couldn't believe it took her this long to figure it out. The clues were all blatantly staring her in the face all this time. A Potions business, the anagrams, the Bezoar . . . it was all so obvious now.

But, she didn't have any reason to think of Professor Snape after all these years. True, there were the hardcore believers who claimed he was in hiding, but Hermione considered all of them mad. Initially, she thought he might have survived, but after he didn't surface gave it over to wishful thinking and basically let him fall to the back of her mind.

Well, he was certainly at the forefront now.

Her belly tightened at the idea of seeing the dark wizard after all these years. Will he have changed much in twenty years? He had to be in his late fifties now. Not really that old for a wizard . . . he had only lived a quarter of his life span so far. Would his hair be gray? Would he have wrinkles? Will his life of solitude show in a physical manner?

No. Sean moved quite well, when he moved at all in her presence. Mostly he stayed in one spot, and when he did move . . . it was usually away from her. Hermione realized that Snape probably thought she might be able to latch on to his walk or some action she remembered. The Professor always moved with grace and balance. Of course, his robes help amplify his gracefulness. Sean always wore a white uniform. White, the opposite color of what the Professor seemed to prefer. Black. He'd always worn black. Another attempt to throw her off the scent.

She certainly had a snootful of him now though and was latched on to it with all the determination of a muggle bloodhound. He couldn't shake her. He was caught.

But how to get him to reveal himself? Should she just do a "Finite" spell and remove the glamour herself, or give him a chance to come clean on his own? More than likely he would have work wizards with him tomorrow. She didn't want to reveal him in front of them. She wanted to be the first.

Suddenly, Hermione had a dark thought. Maybe Professor Snape would try to protect his identity by obliviating her. The witch scowled.

No, he wouldn't do that. In order to make an obliviation work, he would have to also obliviate the mountain incident from the minds of Rose and Hugo, and they were out of his reach. But then again, if he were desperate enough, he could cast an Imperio spell on her and have her bring them back, then obliviate them as well.

Hermione suddenly realized how dangerous a situation she could be in. She would have to keep her wand at the ready the entire time he was present. She might even have to level it on him while she told him what she suspected. Or better yet, take his wand.

Damn. What if Professor Snape could do wandless magic? He had never shown that he could, but most likely he would have hidden that ability.

No. Harry told Hermione about when the Marauders took his wand and he was helpless. If he could have done wandless magic, he would have protected himself, she was certain.

Still, he couldn't hurt her. Too many people knew she worked for Sparse Venues and she left every weekend. If she didn't, there would be inquiries. Snape couldn't afford to have his business investigated. He could be exposed that way as well.

Oh, she was going to have to be careful, very careful. Now she had made herself nervous. Not good. Not good at all. She had to keep her wits about her.

And how was she going to explain what happened to the Medi-Box? Maybe she could pawn it off on a fit of temper because of her work. Yes, she could attribute it to stress, and even use that to explain why she sent her children home. That might throw him off a bit.

Damn, this was going to be a lot more difficult than she first thought. She had no idea how the Professor was now. He could be meaner than ever after two decades of solitude.

Shit. Well, she was in for it now. She'd just have to be flexible and go with her instincts. That's all she had to work with for now.

Feeling tense, Hermione decided to go to the exercise room and soak in the Jacuzzi for a while. It wasn't a solution, but at least a temporary fix.

* * *

"Authorized visitors," the female voice announced.

Hermione stood up, her hand immediately going into her robes pocket as she walked to the apartment door. She took a deep breath.

This was it.

A knock sounded.

"Who is it?" she called.

"Sean Vespers," came the raspy voice.

Hermione tried to relax and pasted a smile on her face, then pulled the door open. An unsmiling Sean Vespers stood there, his cap drawn low over his eyes and flanked by two work wizards.

"We've come to fix your Medi-Box," the wizard said.

"Yes. Yes, come in," Hermione said, stepping aside.

They entered the room, the two work wizards walking directly into Hermione's bedroom as she stood looking at Sean.

One of the wizards came back out.

"We can't fix that unit. A hole was blown straight through it, Mr. Vespers. It has to be replaced," the wizard said, scowling at Hermione as if to ask "What the fuck did you do to it?"

"A hole?" Sean said, his mouth turned down as he looked at Hermione.

"I…I sort of had a bit of a . . . meltdown," Hermione said, flushing.

Sean strode past her into the bedroom. Now that she knew it was Snape, she could tell his walk easily. Hermione followed as the wizard entered the room and stared at the ruined box. He turned on Hermione.

"You're going to have this deducted from your salary," he rasped, "This is not the result of a malfunction. You destroyed this unit. Sparse Venues isn't going to support your temper tantrums"

Hermione nodded.

"That's fine," she said.

Sean continued to stare at her for a moment, then told the work wizards to take the box away. They pulled out their wands and levitated it, guiding it out of the bedroom, then out of the apartment.

Sean began to follow them when Hermione called him.

"Mr. Vespers, I'd like a word with you," she said to the wizard, her heart pounding.

The wizard turned back to face her.

"A new unit will be delivered tomorrow, Mrs. Weasley," he said shortly, starting to turn again.

"That's not what I want to talk to you about," Hermione said, her heart pounding so hard she could hardly hear herself speak.

"Professor Snape," she added, whipping out her wand and pointing it at the wizard.

Sean turned back around slowly and stared at the witch, his mouth grim.

"Are you going to hex me, Mrs. Weasley?" he said, his voice silken now.

"That depends. Do I have to?" she responded.

Suddenly one of the work wizards appeared in the doorway with a piece of parchment in his hand. Hermione quickly lowered her wand.

"I need you to sign off on this, Mr. Vespers," the wizard said, handing Snape the pen.

He took it and signed the parchment. The wizard thanked him and left.

"Two authorized visitors have left the premises," the female voice announced, "Wards down."

Snape turned back to Hermione, who had her wand trained on him again.

He sighed and removed his cap. Lank blonde hair fell to his shoulders and his black eyes rested on her. He looked a little like himself, but not much.

"You can lower your wand, Mrs. Weasley. Hexing you would not improve this situation," he said to her, "You know it's me and short of the obliviation of your entire family, there's little I can do about that. You are in no danger from me."

Hermione stared at him for a moment, then slowly began to lower her wand. Suddenly, she paused and raised it again.

"Finite," she breathed.

The glamour melted away, revealing the lank, black hair, hawkish nose and trademark robes of the Potions Master. He didn't look any different than she remembered him. Not at all. It seemed as if time had stopped for the wizard.

He looked down at himself, then at Hermione.

"Satisfied, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked her.

"Hardly," she replied, "I have a million questions for you, Professor."

"There will not be a million answers," he replied, walking over to the armchair and sitting down in it, folding his hands as Hermione lowered her wand again, "The years have not made me any more talkative, Mrs. Weasley and despite you figuring out just who I am, you have no right to give me the third degree."

Hermione sat down on the sofa, her amber eyes washing over the wizard. It was really him.

"All right," she said slowly, "I'll just ask you one question then, Professor . . ."

Snape looked at her, a bit of curiosity in his dark eyes.

"Why?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	16. The Initial Conversation

**Chapter 15 The Initial Conversation**

"Leave it to you to put a million questions into one word," Snape responded, his eyes leveled on the witch.

Hermione had filled out, age and motherhood maturing her. Her face was rounder as was her body, not a bad thing really considering she had been a bit on the thin side at Hogwarts. But those amber eyes were still inquisitive and sharp.

"I presume you want to know why I hid myself," he continued.

Hermione wanted to say, "That's a start," but merely nodded.

"The answer is quite simple. After years of servitude, Mrs. Weasley, I wanted out. I wanted to be under the thumb of no one but myself. No Albus Dumbledore. No Lord Voldemort. No Hogwarts. I saw a chance at liberty and took it," the wizard said.

"But Professor, no one knew your true role, and you gave no one a chance to thank you," Hermione said.

Snape looked at her incredulously.

"Thank me? Thank me for what, Mrs. Weasley? For helping the wizarding world's most brutal despot come into power? Or for getting Lily Potter killed?" he asked her, scowling. "You like most people have the mistaken idea that I did something noble, when in fact, I was cleaning up my own mess. It was my potion that made Voldemort as strong as he was, and my intelligence that got Harry Potter's mother killed and the boy targeted. I did nothing but try to ease my own conscience."

Hermione stared at him. Was that all the Professor thought that he accomplished?

"But Professor, without you, Voldemort could never have been killed," she said to him plaintively. How could he believe he wasn't a hero?

"Without me, Voldemort would never have risen to the level of power he did. Without me, thousands would not have died. This is why I disappeared, Mrs. Weasley, because of people like you who have a warped sense of what heroism is. By rights, I should either be in Azkaban or dead for my part in all of this," Snape said, "Still, I corrected what I could and cling to my life . . . for what it is."

Hermione couldn't believe this.

"It's your thinking that's warped, Professor. You may have made some errors in judgment when you were younger, but you suffered terribly to protect Harry and bring about Voldemort's downfall. You became a hunted man in order to fulfill Dumbledore's last wishes. Even when Voldemort attempted to kill you, all you wanted to do was find and protect Harry," Hermione said, "You were dedicated, Professor. You were willing to give up your life for Harry, for all of us."

Snape looked at her then leapt out of the chair, his face terrible.

"I only wanted revenge, Mrs. Weasley. My motives were purely selfish! This is why I hid myself away. I don't want the praises and accolades that you and others want to so badly give me. I am not, nor have I ever been a damn hero!" he snarled at her, his robes billowing as he paced.

Suddenly he stopped and looked at Hermione, wrestling his emotions under control.

"I suppose now you will reveal my whereabouts to the wizarding world," he said quietly, "Throw me into the seething cauldron of notoriety and celebration that I so desperately do not want to be embroiled in, showing the world how clever you were in discovering me in the process. How Gryffindorish."

Hermione scowled at the wizard even thinking she would try and cash in on him in that manner. Professor Snape had always made it clear he believed those of Gryffindor house were attention-seekers.

"With all the clues you left, even a first year could have figured it out, Professor," Hermione retorted, "You didn't hide yourself very well. From the wizarding world at large, yes, but not from someone who knows you. You gave yourself away, Professor. I wasn't actively looking for you. I believed you dead. When you saved Hugo, that is when you revealed who you were. When you said what you did, and when you flew. The only other wizard that I know of that could fly without a broom was Voldemort. Then all the anagrams. If you had hired anyone other than me, Professor, you would have remained a secret. Which makes me wonder if deep down, you didn't want to be discovered," Hermione said to him.

"Of course I didn't," he snapped at her, "I simply wanted an employee who was up to the job."

"Oh and that was me after nineteen years of homemaking, Professor," Hermione said sarcastically, "I was just brimming over with potential."

Snape frowned at her.

"You get the work done, don't you? I wasn't wrong about that," he said evenly, sitting back down. "Besides, you needed the work to support your family after Mr. Weasley's death."

Hermione stared at him and Snape looked away from her.

"You hired me to help me. To help me and my family, Professor," she said softly.

Snape looked back at her, his lip curled with disdain.

"I hired you because I saw an opportunity to get a brilliant witch in a bind to work for me," he declared, "Why do you Gryffindors always try to put a noble spin on every cursed act? It's annoying!"

"And thank you for saving my son," Hermione said, her eyes glistening a little.

"I saved him because I didn't want Aurors climbing all over my site, investigating the boy's death," the wizard said, "It would have been an inconvenience. Besides, you would have stopped working to see about his burial arrangements."

Hermione raised her eyebrows for a moment as she looked at the wizard, who met her gaze steadily, then shook her head and stood up.

"All right. I give up, Professor. You are a selfish, incorrigible bastard who cares nothing for anyone but himself and only acts when it's in his own self-interest," she said, turning and heading for the kitchen.

"That is correct, Mrs. Weasley. Now you know the truth of it," the wizard called after her as she disappeared through the kitchen door.

Snape heard cabinets opening and dishes clinking. After a moment he called to her again.

"What are you doing, Mrs. Weasley?" he called.

Hermione was in the cooler, taking out a few cakes.

"I am preparing some tea and cakes, Professor. I imagine after twenty years of nothing but a house elf and Bartleby for companionship, you could use a bit of respite. How do you like your tea?" she asked him.

Snape sat there and scowled for a minute, then his face relaxed a bit as he resigned himself to the situation.

"Like my life," he replied, "Without accouterments."

* * *

Snape listened as Hermione told him about Harry and his family.

"He named his second son after you and Dumbledore," Hermione informed him, "Albus Severus Potter."

Snape pinched his nose.

"Good gods. I have a Potter named after me?" he said, then smirked unpleasantly. "I only wish James was alive so he could die again from shock and horror."

Hermione frowned at the wizard as he took another sip of tea, but said nothing. His hatred of Lily's husband hadn't seemed to have eased over the passing years.

"You know, Professor," she ventured, "It would be good if Harry could see you again. It would give him closure. He never got that."

Snape scowled over his cup at her.

"Closure? I gave him closure when I shared my memories with him," the wizard snapped.

"No. You only gave him guilt. He hated you all those years when he shouldn't have," the witch said, "He never had the chance to thank you."

Snape sighed.

"Again with the unnecessary thank yous?" he snarked, "Leave it to a Gryffindor to take what should have been the end of a matter and turn it into personal guilt to garner sympathy. No. I don't want to see him."

"Well, I'm going to tell him you're alive," Hermione said firmly, "I can't keep something like this from him."

Snape put his cup down.

"Why not just go to the Daily Prophet? The news will spread faster," the wizard said sarcastically.

"Harry's not like that. He won't tell anyone," Hermione assured the wizard.

"No, but then he will start sniffing about, trying to see me, Mrs. Weasley. As I said, I don't want to see him. All that could possibly have passed between us already has. There is nothing more to say," the wizard said.

"Harry will respect that," Hermione said, "He'll just be glad to know you survived."

Snape doubted it. Harry was headstrong and impulsive as a youth. The dark wizard had no reason to think he had changed any. But Hermione would do what she wanted.

"Do what you must, Mrs. Weasley. My days as a recluse are numbered no matter what I do to try and preserve them," he said, rising, "I must go now. I have potions to attend to."

Hermione rose.

"Where do you stay, Professor?" she asked him.

"Someplace inaccessible to others," he replied rather pointedly.

"Is it on the grounds?" she asked him, knowing it had to be.

"It is . . . nearby, Mrs. Weasley. Now may I go, or do you wish to deluge me with a new round of questions and ruin my work?" he asked her, scowling.

"Oh no. No, Professor. I was just wondering . . ." she began.

Snape sighed.

"Of course you were. You are always wondering, Mrs. Weasley," he said, frowning, "But tell me what has your brain percolating at this moment?"

"I . . . I was wondering that since I know you are here now, if we couldn't possibly get together and talk about the project? It would be helpful if I knew exactly what you wanted," the witch said.

Snape's dark eyes rested on her for several moments.

"I will have Eli inform you when I can come by. Is that suitable?" he asked the witch.

Hermione smiled.

"Yes. Yes it is, Professor. Thank you," she said.

Snape studied her again.

"Good day, Mrs. Weasley," he said, turning and exiting the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Presently the female voice spoke.

"Professor Severus Snape leaving the premises. Wards down."

Hermione began to clear the cups and plates away. She had tea and cakes with Professor Severus Snape, and not only that, she had his permission (sort of) to tell Harry he was alive. She hoped she was right in saying that Harry wouldn't try to force himself on the Potions master. She had a feeling if he did, hexes would fly.

Ah well, she'd find out this weekend. She wouldn't be able to hold it in longer than that.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	17. Harry Learns the Truth

**Chapter 16 Harry Learns the Truth**

Professor Snape didn't contact Hermione for the rest of the week. On Friday evening, she left for the Burrow with two contrived stories, one for Molly and one for her children. Hermione didn't make it a habit of lying to her children, but in this case she felt it would be best to withhold the truth.

"Oversized Mandrakes?" Molly said incredulously, "They're dangerous enough when they're normal-sized Hermione. What in the world do they need those for?"

"A better yield of ingredients," Hermione said, forcing her eyes not to shift.

Hermione told Molly she had suddenly been informed that workmen would be delivering and planting oversized Mandrakes and that their screams would be deafening and it would be best that the children be removed from the premises to avoid any accidents.

"I should say so," Molly agreed, looking fondly at Rose and Hugo who both wore straight faces, "My word. Oversized Mandrakes."

Molly fussed and clucked over Hermione for a couple of hours then went off to take care of some housework, leaving the witch alone with her children.

"Wow, mum. You sure know how to tell a lie," Hugo said, impressed.

Hermione scowled at him.

"That's not a good talent, Hugo. It's not a lie, just a fudging of the facts. Your grandmother would have conniptions if she knew you fell off that mountain. More than likely it would bring up your father and we all know that she still cries a lot whenever she thinks of him. So it wasn't as much a lie, as a kindness," Hermione said, rationalizing her untruth.

Hugo nodded. Grandmum did cry a lot over both his dad and his uncle Fred, who had died years before he was even born. He hated to see her cry.

"So mum, did you find out who saved Hugo?" Rose asked her anxiously.

Hermione got ready for the second big lie of the night.

"Yes I did. It was Mr. Vespers, the site supervisor. He patrols the grounds disillusioned and saw Hugo climbing the mountain. He utilized a magic carpet and was on his way to get you when you fell. That's how he was there to catch you," Hermione said.

Hugo and Rose looked at each other. They knew Mr. Vespers was a wizard who came to oversee things at the site. It made sense he would keep an eye on things. And the magic carpet made a lot of sense too, especially if he were standing on it when he caught Hugo.

"However, neither of you can come back to the site this summer. You're going to have to spend the rest of vacation here at the Burrow," Hermione said.

This seemed a bit mean, but she really wanted to work with Professor Snape and find out more about his life after Voldemort in the process. The wizard would never show if the children were on the premises. Maybe by next summer he will have come out of the broom closet. The children would be fine with Molly and Hermione could see them on the weekends.

The children didn't even question this, figuring they were banned because of Rose breaking the ward around the mountainside and Hugo almost killing himself. It was a bummer, but they'd manage. It could have been worse. They could have been banned from the worksite for good.

Hermione spent the rest of the day alternating between laughing and screaming at Rose and Hugo as they showed her their Quidditch skills, Rose plunging toward earth at an insane speed and catching the Quaffle mere inches from the ground, her feet dragging across the dirt as she did so. Hugo even had the nerve to show her how good he could balance, standing on his broomstick and catching the Quaffle.

Hermione was a nervous wreck by dinner, Molly having to give her a calming potion as Hugo and Rose tried to reassure her they were not going to kill themselves on the Quidditch pitch. Like most youngsters, they didn't even associate their mother's fears with Ron's death. He had fallen after all, and they were purposely flying and had control of their brooms the entire time.

They had a wonderful supper and Hermione announced she was going to spend Saturday at Harry's house, then come back Sunday. Rose and Hugo wanted to go, but Hermione told them she had things to discuss with Harry and she'd prefer it if they'd wait to go over until Sunday. They sullenly agreed.

* * *

Harry and Hermione sat outside on the small patio behind Harry's house, a bottle of firewhiskey on the table. Harry had been a bit surprised Hermione suggested he bring a bottle out. She really didn't drink. 

Then she said only one glass would be needed.

"This is for me?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded, looking sober and excited at the same time. Ginny had gone over to the Burrow with the kids after Hermione told her how Hugo and Rose wanted to come. Plus the redheaded witch could see Hermione was anxious to talk to Harry privately. Ginny had an understanding about this. Hermione and Harry were friends for a long time and had a special relationship that she respected, although she liked Hermione very much.

Now witch and wizard sat across from each other at the wooden picnic table, Harry looking a bit worried as Hermione stared at him breathlessly. She looked as if she were going to explode and reminded him of how she was at Hogwarts when she knew something he didn't, but should.

"Harry," she began, "I have something to tell you. Something big. Bigger than anything else that's occurred since Voldemort's death. I need you to be calm and not overreact. Can you do that?"

Harry frowned at her.

"How can I promise you I won't overreact if I don't know what you're going to tell me, Hermione?" he asked her, "I can't see into the future."

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully.

"Okay," she said, "Let's try this then. I want you to take a wizarding oath swearing you won't tell anyone else what I am going to tell you until I say it's all right for you to reveal it. It might be soon, or it might be years from now, or it might never be revealed at all."

Harry stared at her.

"Hermione, what are you going to tell me?" he asked her.

Hermione scowled.

"Harry, I can't tell you that until you take the oath. It's important. Now promise you won't reveal the information I'm about to tell you to anyone until I tell you it's all right to do," she urged him.

Harry thought he really was going to need a shot of firewhiskey.

"Fine. I swear I will not reveal what you tell me until you say it is all right to do it," he said, invoking a Wizard's Oath.

Hermione felt the magic swirl around her and nodded, her face taking on a hungry look.

"Now you know I work for Sparse Venues, right?" she said to him.

Harry nodded.

"All day, every day," he responded.

"And you know Sparse Venues creates and patents potions, right?" the witch continued.

"Yes," Harry said in a slightly irritated voice. Hermione made him take an oath for a history of her job?

"Did you know the first item they patented was a specialized Bezoar stone, one with healing and blood replenishing powers?" she asked him excitedly, "And they did it eighteen years ago?"

Now Harry scowled.

"No, I didn't know that, Hermione. Why in the world would I know that? I didn't even know what Sparse Venues was until you got a job there. Now, what's this all about? Stop drawing it out," he said in exasperation.

Hermione acted as if she didn't hear him.

"And I told you about Sean Vespers, the site supervisor who oversees everything didn't I?" she asked him, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pen and a piece of parchment.

"Yes! Yes!" Harry said, feeling like taking a drink now because Hermione was pissing him off. He watched as Hermione got up, walked around the table and sat down next to him, writing the words "Sparse Venues" and "Sean U. Vespers" on the parchment.

"Now what are you doing?" he asked her.

"You know what anagrams are, don't you Harry?" Hermione pressed, "Words that are turned around to spell something else."

"Now you're going to give me lessons on anagrams? I swear, Hermione…you have to be the most aggravating…" the wizard declared, then he faltered as Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at the words she'd written down.

"Ostendo Sum Lacuna," Hermione breathed.

Harry watched as the letters on the parchment began to move, changing position and realigning themselves. He blinked down at them for a moment, then looked at Hermione wide-eyed.

"A specialized Bezoar stone …" he breathed, still blinking, his face going ashen as he stared at the name repeated twice on the parchment. Then he slowly began to shake his head.

"No . . . no, it can't be, Hermione," he said in a low voice, "It can't possibly be true . . ."

"It is true, Harry. I've seen him. Talked to him. Even had tea and cakes with him. He's alive, Harry. Professor Snape is alive. I work for him. Sparse Venues is his business," Hermione said, her eyes glistening.

For a moment, it seemed as if the entire world suddenly warped and bent around Harry. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be true. But that was Snape's name, not once, but twice . . . and Hermione had seen him, been with him. She wouldn't lie about that. There was no reason to lie.

He looked at Hermione with wild eyes.

"I have to go see him," Harry said, "I need to talk to him . . . to thank him . . . to find out why . . ."

Hermione shook her head sadly.

"He doesn't want to see you Harry. He said everything that could have passed between you two has already passed. I told him you'd respect his wishes. Don't make me into a liar, Harry," Hermione said to him softly.

"But he's alive. Everyone should know this . . . he's a hero, Hermione. He deserves to be recognized," Harry said to her, "At least that."

Hermione shook her head again.

"He doesn't see himself as a hero, Harry. He blames himself for Voldemort's rise to power and your mother's death. He says all he did was try to clean up his mess and avenge your mother for his own reasons. He thinks he should be in Azkaban or worse," the witch said.

Harry blinked at Hermione. He knew how the Professor felt. He had felt like that too at one time, responsible for the deaths of others.

"He never got closure, Hermione," Harry said softly, "He did everything he could do, but he's still full of guilt. There was so much left unsaid …"

Hermione stared at Harry.

"Yes, that could be it, Harry. But there's nothing anyone can do about that. That's something inside of him. If he can't let it go, it's going to be with him all his life," Hermione said.

Harry looked at Hermione.

"Even though he's free, Hermione . . . he'll never really be free, not with that hanging over his head," Harry said, "I know why he doesn't want to see me. It's my eyes. I have my mother's eyes and he can't bear to see them looking at him."

"I think it's a little more than that Harry. You bring everything back. Everything. Not just your mother, but your father too. You look like your father, Harry and Snape hated him. Hated him because he targeted him and hated him because he married your mother. That hate is part of him now. More than likely, he's going to die with it," Hermione said softly.

"What is he going to do, Hermione, now that he knows you know who he is?" Harry asked her.

Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know. But he's agreed to talk to me about the project. Maybe I can draw him out a little. He's been alone a long time and he really seemed to enjoy having company when we talked. It could be he'll just stay hidden. I promised I wouldn't reveal him to anyone but you. You had a right to know he's still alive," she said.

Harry fell silent for a few minutes.

"I have to do something," the wizard said, "Something to help him come back. Something to help him find peace."

Hermione looked at Harry as if he were insane.

"Harry, if Professor Snape was living in the muggle world, it would take years of therapy to cure what's wrong with him. It's too ingrained, Harry. There's nothing you can do to help him. He doesn't even want to see you," she said to her friend, "Harry, I know you feel you owe him, but . . . and I hate to say it . . . it's hopeless."

Harry looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"Years ago, I thought my fight against Voldemort was hopeless, Hermione. I really didn't believe I could ever beat him. Everyone else did, but I didn't. Still I didn't give up and did what I had to do, with your help and the help of others. I couldn't have done any of it if no one believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. Professor Snape can find peace Hermione. He doesn't believe it, you don't believe it, but I believe it. I really do, and I'm going to find a way to help him. It's the least I can do," Harry said determinedly.

"It's a noble sentiment, Harry . . ." Hermione began.

"No. No it's more than a sentiment, Hermione. I'm determined to find a way to make things better for him, even if I never lay eyes on him again. I swear it!"

For the second time that day, Hermione felt the swirl of magic that accompanied a Wizarding Oath. She looked at Harry with wide eyes.

"Oh, Harry," she said despairingly.

Now he was bound to find a way to help Snape, a wizard who didn't want help, particularly help from Lily Potter's son. Gods, he had taken an oath that was impossible to fulfill. How would that affect him?

"It's all right, Hermione," Harry said, "I'm going to find a way to do this and do it soon. I know it."

He opened the bottle of firewhiskey and poured himself a shot. With Hermione watching, he threw it back and rasped.

"I've just got to loosen up my mind a bit. I'll come up with something," he said with a small smile.

"You'd better or that oath is going to give you hell," Hermione breathed, very distressed.

She was going to have to tell Snape about it. Most likely the wizard was going to blow a torch. She could almost hear him ranting now.

"I told you that he wouldn't leave me alone once he knew I was alive! An Oath? Good gods. I'm going to have to relocate!"

Hermione sighed.

Maybe she should have listened to Snape.

* * *

Four weeks passed without Hermione seeing hide or hair of the Professor. The children returned to Hogwarts to began a new school year. Harry was having a very uncomfortable time wrestling with his oath to help the Potions master move past his guilt and pain. He didn't know what to do and spent many restless nights tossing and turning.  
Snape was alive. Alive but not living. Alive and full of guilt after all he'd done. It just wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Yes, he made mistakes but everyone did. Not everyone spent their entire lives trying to correct those mistakes. Not everyone constantly risked their lives and suffered torture after torture in an attempt to make things right. And not everyone succeeded. 

Snape did. And he deserved some happiness, or at least some freedom from the ghosts of his past. The past was dead and buried.

Suddenly, Harry sat up in bed, his eyes wild. Ginny stirred next to him as he reached over to the nightstand and picked up his glasses, putting them on and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. It had to be about three in the morning. Ginny's eyes fluttered open.

"Harry? Harry, what are you doing?" she asked him sleepily as the wizard took off his pajama bottoms and began to dress.

"I need to go out," he said.

Ginny sat up on her elbows now, alarmed. Her husband hadn't been sleeping well since the day he spent talking with Hermione. He wouldn't tell her what he and Hermione discussed but it was clear to his wife that his near sleepless nights and restlessness had something to do with that discussion.

"Harry, come back to bed. You don't have anywhere to go this time of night," she said to him.

Harry buttoned up his robes, sat down on the bed and pulled on his socks, then his trainers. He looked at Ginny. She noticed his eyes were clear, very clear.

"Believe me, Ginny, I do have someplace to go. I've got to get something. Something very important," he said to his wife, "I'll be back in a few hours."

"But Harry," Ginny began.

Harry leaned over the bed and kissed her, silencing her protests.

"I'll be back, Ginny. Go back to sleep," he said, grabbing his wand off the nightstand and striding from the bedroom with a determined walk.

Ginny looked after him and sighed. Well, at least he didn't seem drunk. He'd be all right.

She lay back down, and heard the sound of apparition.

Harry stood outside the gates of Hogwarts, his belly tight as he considered what he was about to do. He knew the spell to enter the grounds and unlocked the gate, entering then warding it back securely.

As he walked across the grounds, memories of the night he walked toward what he believed would be his death flooded back to him. The cold fear, the sensation of his heart beating, the blood flowing through his veins, how sweet every breath felt as he breathed in, thinking each breath brought him closer to his death.

But there had been some comfort, some help during those moments. He stopped at the edge of the Forbidden forest.

It had been more than twenty years since he had stood at this part of the Forbidden forest. More than two decades since he walked toward Voldemort and death. The trees were larger but there wasn't much difference in the area. Still, after twenty years it would be difficult to locate what he was looking for even in daylight. What hope did he have of finding such a small thing after so long?

"I am about to die," he had breathed, and then . . . then it happened.

Now Harry stood rooted to the spot, the memories returning. After that, he hadn't cared what happened to it. Over the years it could have been buried in the soil, kicked away by visiting students, carried off by some animal for one purpose or another. Anything

But there was always hope. Always the slightest chance . . .

Harry continued on, imagining himself following Yaxley and Dolohov once again, into that clearing, into that dark presence . . . into the arms of death itself, alone again.

He stopped and looked about the clearing, images of Voldemort's victorious face flashing before him, surrounded by Death Eaters made even more unearthly in the flickering firelight. Harry shook his head. That part of his life was over. He became the Master of Death that night and by doing such, the true victor. It was here he had let it go. Here where he let everything go . . .

Taking a deep breath, Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it randomly at the forest floor. He had to try.

"Accio Resurrection Stone!" he cried.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	18. Closure

**Chapter 17 Closure**

Bartleby was sitting at his desk, reading over some paperwork for another client when there was a knock on his office door. The solicitor looked up.

"Come in," he called.

The door opened and Harry entered. He had a small box and a letter in his hands. Bartleby recognized the wizard immediately and stood up, smiling and offering his hand.

"Harry Potter. What a pleasure!" he exclaimed as Harry shook his hand, "I'm John Bartleby. Don't tell me you are looking for a solicitor?"

"Ah no. Actually I have something I'd like delivered to Hermione Granger," he said, passing Bartleby the package and the letter.

"Ah I see," Bartleby said, pulling out his wand and checking the package for any possible danger. There was no reaction.

"I'll send it out immediately," the solicitor said.

"Thank you," Harry said shortly, "It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Likewise, Mr. Potter," Bartleby replied, smiling as the wizard left.

He looked at the package curiously, then summoned Eli.

* * *

"I wonder what this is?" Hermione said, shaking the box and hearing it rattle. 

She was curious as hell. Harry had sent her a letter. Inside it was another letter addressed to Snape, stamped with wax and Harry's seal. It was magicked so if it were cracked, it could not be repaired. Drat.

The letter instructed Hermione to give the box and the letter to Snape WITHOUT opening them, the word "without" capitalized.

Harry knew Hermione well.

The witch stared at the box, sorely tempted to open it, but instead called Eli, who winked in immediately. She hadn't yet told Snape about Harry's oath because she hadn't seen him since they had tea and cakes. Apparently he was quite busy.

"Yes Miss?" Eli said to her.

Hermione quickly handed Eli the letter and package as if they were burning her hands.

"Deliver that to Professor Snape. It's for him," she said.

"Yes Miss," Eli said, winking out.

Snape was down in his labs brewing, so Eli left the package and letter on the table in front of the fireplace. The wizard didn't come up until late in the evening. He noticed the letter and package immediately.

"What's this?" he said to himself, sitting down in the armchair and picking up the letter. He opened it and read it.

"Oh good gods. She's told him and it's started," the wizard groaned, wiping his face with his hand in irritation. Well, he had said he didn't want to see Harry. He didn't say the wizard couldn't write. At least the letter wasn't long.

_Professor,_

_Hermione told me you did not want to see me and I will respect that. But I have sent you something I think you will find interesting. Turn it over once in your hand._

_Harry_

Snape scowled, then picked up the small package and turned it over in his hand, then shook it. Something rattled inside.

He pulled off the wrapper and opened it. On a piece of white cotton sat a small, cracked black stone. There was a triangle and a circle on it. It looked vaguely familiar. He plucked it out of the box and studied it.

* * *

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* * *

"All right, Mr. Potter. Let's see what insanity you've visited upon me," he said, placing the stone in his palm and turning it over once. 

Suddenly the flames in the fireplace lowered significantly, the wizard starting in surprise. A wisp of smoke appeared in front of him, slowly writhing and forming a shape. A shape of a woman. A very familiar young woman, no more than twenty-one years of age, with dark red hair and unforgettable green eyes.

"Lily," Severus breathed as the woman he loved stood before him, smiling softly and looking real enough to touch. But she couldn't be touched.

"Severus," she said softly.

The wizard stared at her in shocked disbelief, his heart pounding. Lily spoke.

"Severus. Oh, Severus. I've felt you for all these years, all this time. Your love . . . your pain . . . your guilt."

The Potions master stared at the specter before him, so close, so real he couldn't speak. He never could speak properly when in her presence . . . not really, not when he was feeling strong emotion. That hadn't changed.

"Severus, we weren't meant to be, not the way you longed for, the way you longed for but never said," Lily said softly, her green eyes resting on the wizard kindly, "There really are such things as Fate and Destiny, and our fate and destiny fell just the way it was meant to."

Snape let out a sound as he stared at Lily. His beautiful Lily. He found his voice. It was hoarse, broken, but he found it and his courage. Finally, finally he could tell her what had been in his heart for all those many years.

"I loved you, Lily. I loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you in the park, when I was just a troubled, badly dressed young scamp from the wrong side of town. You were so full of life, of light . . . of joy at being who and what you were," he said, his voice breaking, "You didn't judge me. You made me forget my own pain, my own troubles, Lily."

Lily smiled at the wizard sadly.

"But there was more than your own pain, Severus. You were born for a purpose. There was darkness looming, a darkness that had to be met and overcome. You played a part in its destruction, Severus. Your place in the game was set long before we ever knew," the witch said softly.

"I was part of it. I made it possible," Snape said, his voice full of self-loathing.

Lily shook her head.

"No, Severus. You had to go into the darkness, you had to be who you were to make it possible for the darkness to end. You were the one who brought the light . . . who brought the change. Only you could do it," she said, her green eyes resting on him.

"You died because of me. Because of what I revealed," the wizard said despairingly.

"No. No, that isn't true, Severus. When you revealed the Prophecy to the Dark Lord, you had no idea I had Harry on the thirty-first. You didn't know where we were. You were just passing information . . . that's all you did. It was Peter who gave us up, who gave us over. Peter who informed Voldemort when our child was born and where we were. Voldemort could have gone for the Longbottoms first. In that case, Neville could have become the Boy Who Lived. It just so happened he came to us first since Peter was our Secret Keeper. It isn't your fault, Severus. It never was. You have held on to a guilt that was never yours," the ghost said softly.

Snape stared at her.

"I wanted you, Lily. I wanted you more than I wanted anything. Everything," he breathed, "I became a Death Eater, not because I wanted that power, but because I would be able to protect you when the Dark Lord took over. You would have been spared if I served him. That was why I joined them, Lily. I wanted you to live. I would have been able to influence him."

Again, the ghost shook her head.

"That is what you believed, Severus," the ghost insisted.

"No, that is what it was. Instead, I caused your death," the wizard said, his voice quavering.

"You've never listened, Severus. Never!" Lily snapped at him, "I've already told you Fate had a hand in this. I was always meant for James, always meant to bring Harry into the world and sacrifice myself for him. He was always meant to face the Dark Lord. My Patronus was a doe for a reason, Severus, long before I knew James was a stag."

Severus swallowed as the truth of her statement sunk in. His own doe Patronus was a result of his love for Lily, reflecting her own connection to James Potter. His nemesis. His enemy.

Lily continued.

"I was always meant to die, Severus. Only by my dying could you see Voldemort for who and what he was . . . only then did you work toward his destruction. When he didn't spare me, he sealed his own end. Don't you see, Severus? Don't you see you've always had a destiny as great as Harry's? Lives were lost, but so many more could have been taken if not for you. You truly are a hero, Severus. You were born one."

The Potions master wiped his eyes, unable to speak. Lily smiled at him.

"Severus," the ghost said, "If there were anything I could ask of you to do for me . . . it would be this …."

Snape looked at her, hunger in his eyes. He'd do anything for her still. Anything.

"What Lily? I would do anything for you. Anything," Severus said, his heart pounding.

"Then don't let your life pass you by. Don't weep for the memories," she said softly, "It is as it was supposed to be. You did all you could do and are blameless. Blameless, Severus. Let it go. Let me go. Now is your time to live. Now is your time to be free. If you ever loved me, you'll do this. You'll live and find your happiness. You'll live and find your own true love."

"Lily," Severus said as she began to fade.

"Lily, did you ever love me?" the wizard asked her, his eyes glistening.

"Of course I did," she answered, "Just not the way you wanted, Severus, but I always loved you. I just didn't understand your path then. I didn't understand why you were so immersed in darkness, but it all became clear in the end. You were my best friend. My first wizarding friend. Your place in my heart will remain forever. Forever, Severus."

He stared at her, his heart releasing, his soul satisfied at last. It wasn't the love he craved, but . . . it was love. As pure a love as could ever be. Lily thinned, only the barest flicker remaining.

"Turn the stone four more times, Severus," Lily said, her voice fading, "Four more times, my heart, my friend. I am with you from everlasting to everlasting."

Then she was gone.

Snape looked down at the stone in his palm, then at the empty space Lily had occupied. He hesitated, then turned the stone as she asked.

Four wisps of smoke formed before him, coalescing into recognizable forms. James, Remus, Sirius and Peter, all staring at him.

"Shit," the Potions master snarled as he took them in.

"Not pleased to see you either, Snivelus," Sirius barked at him before James elbowed him in the ribs. Remus simply gazed at the Potions master, while Peter looked sorely distressed.

He had reason to be. The moment Sirius realized the fat little wizard was present, he launched himself at him, grabbing him by the throat.

"You fat little lying toady!" Sirius snarled, choking his fellow ghost, "I've waited ages to get my hands on you! You framed me!"

Snape watched as James and Lupin jumped on the pair, trying to wrench them apart, Sirius choking Peter so his tongue lolled out. Apparently, ghosts could get their asses kicked by other ghosts. Snape shook his head as he watched them.

"I see not much has changed with you four. You're still idiots," the Potions master said as they broke apart, James and Lupin between Sirius and the gasping Peter.

James looked at the wizard, remorse in his face.

"We . . . we never knew, Severus," the ghost said, "I hated you because Lily cared about you so much and I wanted her. You were in the way."

"I hated you just because I did," Sirius said, again getting elbowed, this time by James and Lupin.

"I never hated you, Severus. I just wasn't courageous enough to stand up for you when you were targeted. I didn't want to lose the only friends I had. I didn't know what real friendship was then," Lupin said, his eyes sad.

"Why are you here?" Snape said, unmoved. He still hated them.

"Because . . . because in the end, Severus Snape . . . you were the better man," James said, "I needed to tell you that. We needed to tell you that."

Even Sirius dropped his head.

"As much as I hate to admit it . . . it's true, Snivelus. A better man than all of us, you greasy git," he said to the floor.

"I always knew that," the Potions master said coldly, "All of you were swine."

Not one ghost argued with him. Peter stepped forward.

"I'm sorry about Lily," the fat wizard said, "I didn't mean to get her killed. I was just afraid. Voldemort was so powerful . . ."

"You could have died, Peter. Died rather than gave James and Lily up!" Sirius snarled at him.

"No. It happened as it was meant to happen, to get Snape on his path," James said, "We were all the pawns of destiny from the moment of our births. It happened the way it happened for a reason. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry, Severus."

The Potions master looked at James with hatred.

"You never deserved her," the wizard said in a low voice.

"I know that," James said, "I never loved Lily the way you did. But we were meant for each other. It was part of a greater plan. As I said, I'm sorry."

"And I heard you," the wizard snapped, "It means nothing to me. Nothing."

But it did.

"Well, I'm not sorry. It was fun giving you what for," Sirius said, "But I have to admit you came through in the end. Why the powers that be would make a bastard like you a son of destiny I'll never understand, but I have to take my hat off to you."

Snape sneered at the ghost.

"I'd much prefer it was your head," he replied, "The remorse of a dead man means nothing to me. You were an ass in life and are still an ass, Sirius Black."

The ghost shrugged and stepped back as Remus stepped forward. Snape shook his head.

"Your cowardice is no excuse, Lupin. You will not be forgiven either," the wizard said, "So don't waste your words."

Snape looked at Peter as Remus stepped back.

"I guess there is no hell or your fat ass would be on a spit someplace roasting," he snapped at the rotund wizard.

"Oh, there's a hell all right. In here," Peter said, pointing to his chest.

"I hope it consumes you," Snape replied, his eyes full of hate, "Now all of you, leave my presence and haunt me no more. I am and always have been the better man and if there is any satisfaction to be had, that is it. Begone!"

The four ghosts faded out, every face contrite except for Sirius'.

Harry's godfather or not, he really was an ass.

Snape stared at the empty spot before the fireplace and sighed, looking down at the stone in his hand. It was a marvelous creation . . . one he would never use again. He'd return it to Harry. Lily could rest now.

And at last, so could he.

* * *

A/N: This was such a satisfying chapter to write. Sirius. :::shakes head::: Some things not even death can change. Thanks for reading. 


	19. Another Resurrection

**Chapter 18 Another Resurrection (Short Chapter)**

Snape summoned Eli and asked him where the package originated from.

"The Miss sends it," the elf responded.

Ah. So Harry sent the package to Hermione first to make sure it was delivered as well as to not let on that he knew the Potions Master was alive. Hmm. It must have been difficult for the curious witch to let that package pass through her hands without knowing what it was.

Severus sat there for a moment, thinking, then put the stone back into the box, covered it and handed it to Eli.

"Give this back to Mrs. Weasley and tell her I said 'Thank you.'" the Potions Master said.

"Yes sir," Eli said, winking out.

* * *

Hermione was curled up in the armchair reading the latest issue of Charms Today when Eli winked in and walked up to her, holding out the box. 

"The Master says thank you," the elf said, handing the box to Hermione and winking out.

Hermione put the magazine down and looked at the covered box. It wasn't wrapped. Now, she could see what it was Harry had given the Professor. Biting her lip, she slowly opened it, then let out a little gasp as she saw the symbols of the Deathly Hallows on the cracked stone.

"It's the Resurrection Stone," she breathed.

Harry had never told anyone how he was accompanied to his death by his mother, father, godfather and Remus Lupin. He kept it to himself. As a result, Hermione had no idea exactly how the stone worked, if it worked at all. Supposedly, it brought back the dead, though didn't truly resurrect them. They remained dead, just accessible.

She picked the stone up out of the box and rested it on her palm, studying it. During her examination, she turned it over.

Suddenly, the room darkened somewhat. Startled, Hermione looked up to see a wisp of smoke form in front of her. It coalesced into a familiar form. A painfully familiar form, tall, redheaded, blue-eyed and smiling.

"Ron?" Hermione said in a voice full of disbelief.

"Hermione," the ghost said.

"Is this some kind of vision? Or illusion? Or hallucination?" the witch asked him, looking down at the stone for a moment, then back at the wizard. He looked so solid, so real.

"No, I don't think so, Hermione. That's the Resurrection stone. It brought me here because I'm the one person on the other side you wanted to see the most," the ghost said, smiling, "I miss you."

Hermione's eyes glistened.

"I miss you too, Ron. I still can't believe what happened to you. I was devastated," the witch said.

"I know. I saw everything. I'm so sorry this happened, Hermione. I wanted to be with you longer than I was. I wanted to be there for Hugo and Rose. I wanted to see the Chudley Cannons reclaim the World Cup," the wizard said, "But, that's just not how it was supposed to go. But at least I was happy. I was so happy with you, Hermione. You made my life good and I'll forever be thankful for that."

"Oh Ron," Hermione sobbed, tears freely falling from her eyes.

"I'm proud of you too. You stepped up to the plate and now you're doing just what you were meant to do. Making more galleons than I ever could have. I'm glad of that. You're brilliant Hermione. You were always too brilliant for me. I don't know how I ended up with you," the ghost said, his blue eyes full of love.

"You ended up with me because I love you, Ron. You were a good husband and a good friend. I never regretted marrying you," she said, "Even though there were some hairy moments for a while..."

"Yeah," he agreed, "The whole "me the wizard, you the witch" thing. It was just how I was raised Hermione. I wanted to take care of you the way dad takes care of mum. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

Hermione smiled through her tears.

"No Ron. There's not a thing wrong with that," she said to the ghost.

They both fell silent for a moment, then Ron cleared his throat in that familiar way he had when he was about to say something he knew Hermione probably wouldn't like.

"Hermione, I'm gone now. I mean, I'm not really gone but you have your whole life ahead of you," the wizard said carefully, "I don't like the idea of you spending it alone. I was a jealous git when I was alive, and I can't believe I'm saying this now . . . but I think it would be good if you could find someone to make you happy now that I'm out of the picture."

"But . . . but you're not out of the picture, Ron. I still love you," Hermione said, her eyes wide.

"I still love you too, Hermione, but things . . . things are different here. You can see life much clearer when you're on the other side. You can see that the most important thing that people can share is love. I love you, Hermione and I always will. I love you enough that I want you to find even more love now that I'm gone. It doesn't mean I love you any less, or that you love me any less. What we had can never be erased, Hermione. I just want you to live a full life, and the fullest life is one where there's love and companionship. I want that for you. I want you to be happy," Ron said to his wife, "I can't stand the idea of you being alone when Rose and Hugo grow up. I don't want to see that happen. You have too much to offer someone else, someone else who might need the kind of love you can give. It's a gift, Hermione. You shouldn't keep it to yourself or deny yourself because of my memory."

Hermione looked at her dead husband. He had only been gone a little more than a year. She hadn't even entertained the idea of meeting anyone else, much less falling in love again. Ron had been her everything.

"Ron, I don't want . . ." she began.

Ron scowled at her.

"Don't argue with me, Hermione," he said, "I'm dead and you have a life to live. I'm not saying go out prowling around for some bloke to replace me . . . I'm just saying if the opportunity arises and you connect with somebody, be willing to take a chance it can become something more. That's all I'm asking, Hermione. Will you do that for me? Please?"

Ron gave her those puppy-dog eyes he was famous for. It usually worked for him. It did again.

"All right, Ron. I'm not going to go looking for anyone, but if I feel something and the feeling is returned, maybe I'll give it a go," the witch said.

She was rewarded with a bright smile from the ghost.

"That's the girl," he said, "Now, I have to go, Hermione. My time's up."

For a moment, just a fleeting moment Hermione thought she could use the stone and make Ron stay here with her, like the man in the fairytale kept the ghost of his beloved with him. But she was a prisoner and miserable. No, she couldn't be that selfish.

As if he could read her mind, Ron said, "You have to let me go, Hermione. Don't summon me again. My time is over. Let the dead rest and the living . . . live. That's the way it's supposed to be."

Hermione nodded, her tears starting again.

"I love you, Hermione Weasley. I'll love you until the end of time," Ron said, fading out. The room brightened again and Hermione let out a sob.

"I'll always love you too, Ron," she whispered at the empty space, wiping at her eyes and putting the stone back into the box and closing it.

Then she cried for quite a long time.

* * *

A/N: A short chappie I felt was necessary to the story. Now we can move along. Thanks for reading. 


	20. Someone New

**Chapter 19 Someone New**

Harry was at work at the Ministry and in his office looking over some paperwork when a little elf winked in with a wrapped package in its claw. Eli looked up at the wizard and bowed.

"From Mrs. Weasley," the elf said, placing it on Harry's desk then winking out.

Harry picked the small package up and opened it. It was the Resurrection Stone. It was wrapped in different parchment, so it must have been used. He hoped the Professor got something out of it. The oath hadn't been pulling him to act, so maybe the dark wizard found some closure.

Well, he had done what he wanted with the stone and now it was time to put it beyond the reach of others who would abuse its power. He didn't want it for himself. He'd had enough dealing with power when Voldemort was around. All he wanted was a normal life and he had it. He intended to keep it.

After work, instead of heading for home, Harry instead went to Hogwarts. He knew just what to do with the stone. After letting himself through the gates, he warded them back and pulled his miniaturized broom out of his pocket. He enlarged and mounted it, kicking off and flying toward the lake. No one would ever find the stone there.

* * *

Sixth-year Slytherin Rod Dormers made his way out of Hogwarts and headed for the lake, his rather shabby school robes rifling around him, just a bit too short for his long legs. As he walked, his watery blue eyes were focused on the water and the Giant Squid, splashing about. He gingerly scratched his cheek, trying to avoid the number of pimples splattered across his skin. He winced as his nail caught one anyway.

As he approached the lake, he saw two Gryffindor girls approaching him. He lowered his eyes and tried to will himself invisible.

"Hey look, it's Odd Rod," one of the girls called out as he swept past them. The other girl laughed and made an "L" on her forehead with her thumb and forefinger.

"What a loser," she giggled, "A two-time loser when you add in he's a Slytherin."

"Stupid chits," Rod muttered, heading for a large boulder and sitting down on it, staring across the sun-sparkled water.

Rod was a pureblood, but a poor one and an orphan. Hogwarts was not run as it was when Dumbledore was alive. The wizard had provided students in need with adequate supplies and for the most part, they didn't stand out from the others. That wasn't the case now. Everything Rod owned was a hand-me-down and looked it. He had been badly embarrassed by his fellow Slytherins when he removed his robes and the collar of it had someone else's name stitched on it, and a date of over a decade ago.

His shoes were atrocious though he kept them clean and as polished as possible, but the care just made the creases stand out even more. Even his wand was notched and beat up, though it worked for him. Maybe not as good as if it had chosen him, but it worked. Rod was a fair student, but an outcast in his house and by association, from the other houses as well. He was a Slytherin after all, and considered an embarrassment by his other housemates.

"Why don't you just leave Oddkins?" they'd sneer at him, "You bring the whole house down. You're a disgrace to the name of Slytherin."

He would never reply to this. Never argue. He would just go off somewhere alone and imagine he was someplace else, rich and respected with a good bloodline and family tree. He was known for his daydreaming, for walking through the corridors with the appearance of not really being all there. Then he'd be buffeted about by other students when he inadvertently bumped into them.

"Watch where you're going, Odd Rod," they'd say, pushing him back and forth until he stumbled free of them.

Rod scratched his dirty blonde hair. It was always itchy, just like his skin was always blotchy with eruptions.

"You need to get a shag, Odd Rod. That'll clear those craters up. But you're going to need some galleons. No witch in her right mind would shag a bloke like you for free," one of his roommates said as the others laughed.

Rod tried to ignore them. But they were right for the most part. Witches wouldn't even speak to him unless it was to tell him to go sit someplace else or get out of the way . . .

No. That wasn't true. There was one witch that spoke nicely to him from time to time. But she was a Gryffindor.

Her name was Rose Weasley and she was a chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Rod liked to watch her fly and secretly cheered for her, even when Gryffindor was playing against Slytherin. She was wild and free in the air, as if she had been born on a broom, her red hair streaming behind her as she made some dangerous and wonderful save in front of the gasping, cheering crowd. Once in a while she'd wave and give him a smile, even when her friends said, "Ew, why do you even speak to him, Rose? He's . . . odd."

But he didn't dare think Rose actually liked him. More likely she felt sorry for him because he was such a loser and a nobody. Nothing about him stood out except for his sad state. He was an average student and had no great magical abilities. He was the kind of wizard that turned invisible when surrounded by others. No one of great note.

It didn't help that Rod had to do work around Hogwarts to stay enrolled, such as muck out the Thestral stables and do clean-up around the castle under the watchful eye of the new caretaker. Filch had been dead for years, but Anthony Gronin was just as crotchety and bad-tempered as Filch was, with one exception. He was a wizard and had no problem using his wand on students that pissed him off. More than one set of singed robes billowed away from the grinning caretaker as its owner howled.

Sometimes a tired Rod would enter Slytherin's common room just before curfew after working around the stables. He would scourgify himself carefully, removing all the scent and dirt, but the others would wrinkle their noses and pretend he stunk anyway, all moving away from him and telling him he should have showered off with the hose he used on the stables before he returned, or better yet, should have slept in the stables.

Young people can be so cruel.

Rod was used to the mistreatment though, and said nothing to his Head of House or teachers or the Headmaster. What good would it do? It wouldn't change anything and people couldn't be forced to respect him. But what it gave the young wizard was a core of bitterness that he held deep inside himself, seething and roiling but never given anywhere to go.

Rod picked up a stone and looked at it. He liked stones. This one was nothing special however, so he just threw it across the lake.

Suddenly he saw a motion in the sky and looked up. It was someone on a broom, flying over the lake. It looked like he threw something in the direction of the flailing squid. He couldn't see what.

Suddenly, the squid seemed to flail harder, all of its tentacles writhing about as the person on the broom turned and flew away.

Then something quite small hit the ground, bounced and rolled toward him. Rod squinted and walked over to it, bending and picking it up. He studied it. It was a stone. It was black and had markings on it. It was also cracked.

"Wow, this is pretty cool," he said, depositing it in his pocket, intending to study it further when he had time. Right now, he had to head back to the school . . . it was time for Potions.

* * *

A/N: Ooh. A new original character. Rod Dolmer Dormers. And he has the Resurrection Stone. That can't be good can it? No, I really don't think so. Thanks for reading. 


	21. A Workout

**Chapter 20 A Workout**

Harry flew back to the gates, dismounted, reduced his broom, then exited the castle grounds and disapparated for home. By now, the stone should be well buried in the silt underneath the Squid and no one would be able to find it for centuries. It was safe.

Harry had no idea how sensitive the Squid was. One would think such a large creature wouldn't notice such a thing as a tiny stone connecting with it. But the Squid had excellent reflexes and the moment it connected, the creature flung the stone shoreward instantly. Since every tentacle was moving, there was no way Harry could have seen this, and no way he could have known that a lone wizard who happened to be near the lake's shoreline found the stone and took it with him.

There was also no way he could know one of the wizarding world's most powerful magical objects was now in the hands of an inexperienced Hogwarts' student, or know what series of events were about to occur because of this oversight. If Harry had known, he might have opted to try and destroy the stone outright rather than hide it.

After all, any gift from Death was one to be wary of. It may have taken generations for the specter to reclaim its own, but mortals were fools. One of them would make a mistake with the stone.

And Harry James Potter was that mortal.

* * *

The next morning Snape awoke in his bed feeling oddly refreshed. Light. Almost giddy. Thinking he might be coming down with something the wizard pressed his hand against his forehead to see if he had some kind of fever. 

He didn't.

Completely nude, he rose, stretched and headed for the loo to relieve his bladder and consequently morning hard-on. He pissed, then walked over to the shower and turned it on, still unable to shake the feeling of lightness.

Eli prepared a light breakfast for the Potions master as he showered. When the wizard emerged from his morning abolution, he found he felt like having a workout. A real workout. Normally he did a bit of running in the morning through the forest, and all his working with the earth exercised his body quite well, but it had been years since he actually "worked out" and there was a perfectly good exercise room in the worksite that Hermione hardly utilized. Besides, she knew who he was now. He didn't have to hide from the witch.

So instead of donning his robes, the wizard pulled on a black t-shirt, black sweatpants, socks and trainers. He then rifled through the top drawer of his dresser and located a black rubber band which he used to tie back his hair in a ponytail. He tucked his wand into his waistband, then grabbed a towel out of the bathroom, tossed it around his shoulders and headed for the kitchen. Eli glanced at his master as he set the table, then did a little double-take as the wizard picked up the glass of pumpkin juice next to his breakfast and drained it down. Then he looked at the elf.

"Put my breakfast up for now, Eli. I'm going to work out at the site for an hour or two. I'll eat when I return," the Potions master said.

"Y-yes sir," the elf responded, surprised.

Eli watched as his master grabbed a piece of toast off his plate then left the kitchen. He could feel something different about the wizard. Something different and decidedly good.

As Snape made his way down the long staircase that led to the forest floor, he thought the mountain air never smelled so . . . sweet. It was a clear day, warm and filled with birdsong and chattering from the forest. He didn't bother to disillusion himself as he normally did when he left his home. He walked boldly through his domain, getting on the path and making a beeline for the site.

He stopped outside the door, looking rather impatient.

"Professor Severus Snape. Authorized," the female voice said, the door opening.

The Potion master strode down the corridor, past Hermione's apartment and into the exercise room. He looked around for a moment, then walked over to a weight machine and adjusted the weight. He sat down comfortably, leaning back and grasping the hanging bar. Then he released it, sat forward and removed his shirt. No need on getting it sweaty. His pale torso visible, he again positioned himself and began his sets.

* * *

Hermione put her terrycloth robe on and headed out of the apartment, down to the exercise room. She had really fallen in love with that Jacuzzi. She too felt a bit light, as if some hidden weight had been lifted off her. She figured a couple of minutes in the warm, bubbling, soothing pool would get her day off to a great start. 

She walked down to the exercise room and entered, heading straight for the Jacuzzi.

Snape had heard the door opening, and as a matter of habit, pulled his wand and disillusioned himself. He was now sitting on the bench watching Hermione walk across the room in a white terrycloth robe. She was barefoot and barelegged.

Snape blinked and sat up, watching as the witch removed her robe, revealing a blue one-piece bathing suit and a very nice, womanly shape.

The wizard cleared his throat a little as his black eyes washed over her. Hermione wasn't slender, but she wasn't fat either. She was at that perfect feminine place, amply rounded in all the right places, her thighs a bit on the thick side. Her exposed skin was smooth and her breasts rather large. She was about five foot five in height. Snape watched as she eased her way down into the water, which immediately started churning. She sat down and lay back against the edge of the tub, closing her eyes and sighing with pleasure as the water did its work on her body.

She certainly wasn't the wispy little thing she was at Hogwarts. There was a time Hermione was so skinny, her head looked too big for her body, and that bushy hair didn't help. The Professor often thought she looked like a walking matchstick with hair, especially when she dressed in the muggle way.

Obviously, those days were long gone. Maturity and motherhood had done their work and a damn good job of it.

Hmm. Didn't she say she wanted to discuss the project last time he saw her? Yes, she had said that. The Professor really hadn't thought about it again, but now found that maybe he needed to make those arrangements. There was the work to think about after all.

No time like the present.

The wizard removed the disillusionment spell, stood up and walked over to the Jacuzzi, looking down at the witch. Hermione's eyes were still closed and Snape still walked as quietly as a wraith, so she didn't hear his approach.

Smirking slightly, the wizard spoke.

"I would think you'd have a more rigorous morning regime than this, Mrs. Weasley," he said to the witch.

Hermione's eyes opened wide and she gasped, ducking down into the churning water as she looked up at the wizard. The Professor hadn't realized he didn't put his shirt back on. But he soon realized it by the shocked look in Hermione's eyes as they moved across his pale, hairless torso. The wizard was quite fit.

"Professor, what are you doing here?" she gasped.

"This is an exercise room, isn't it? I came here to work out. A sight more than you it appears," he commented, his black eyes resting on her flushed face.

"But I'm in the Jacuzzi. In my…my bathing suit," Hermione said to him as if that meant something important.

"Yes, I can see that," Snape replied

Silence followed this statement.

"I feel very uncomfortable," the witch said, still cringing under the water as she looked at the half naked wizard, "and you standing there without a shirt isn't making me feel any better."

Snape looked down at himself.

"I didn't realize I was so . . .offensive," he said silkily, looking back at Hermione.

"It's not that you're offensive, Professor, it's just that this is just…just rather intrusive. I thought this was my exercise room," the witch said, wishing the wizard would go get a shirt. This was just crazy.

"Last I heard, this is Sparse Venues' exercise room. In other words, mine, though you have access to every amenity," he responded evenly. "And you're going to be sharing it from now on. Since you know I am alive and well, I see no reason why I should have to climb craggy mountainsides and dodge through trees to get exercise when I can come here and target the parts of my body I wish to improve. So get used to seeing me, Mrs. Weasley."

Hermione scowled at him slightly.

"I just hope I won't be seeing as much of you as I am now," she replied, still frowning at the wizard. He had some nerve still standing there like that after she had made it plain it made her uncomfortable.

Snape actually chuckled.

"No, you'll be spared that. I removed my shirt before I noticed you," he lied.

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you'd put it back on and give me a bit of space so I can exit the tub and get my robe back on," the witch said pointedly.

"Fine, Mrs. Weasley. I only approached you to tell you I will drop in after lunch to discuss the project you are working on," the Potions master said.

"That's fine. Now, if you'll excuse me," Hermione said to him.

Snape stood there a few more seconds to piss her off, then retired, walking back over to the exercise machine and pulling on his shirt, Hermione watching it slide over his lean body. She had covered her mouth when she saw all the scars on the wizard's back, a glaring reminder of just how much he suffered while serving as a spy.

The Professor wrapped his towel around his neck.

"I'll see you this afternoon, Mrs. Weasley," he purred at her, "Enjoy your 'workout.'"

The wizard left the room and Hermione had the distinct impression her preferred method of enjoying the exercise room had been found lacking by the wizard. Well, she didn't need to bulk up. She was fine as she was.

Hermione looked toward the door furtively, then rose out of the pool, walking up the steps quickly, grabbing her towel and toweling off, then hurriedly slipped on her robe, tying it securely around her.

The wizard had made her feel as if she were naked, standing there looking down at her half-dressed like he was. Didn't Snape have ANY sense of propriety?

Obviously not, strutting around like that in mixed company. And to think she had thought him repressed and straitlaced in school. He didn't show a bit of skin, and his robes had so many buttons it was a wonder he got them all fastened quick enough to make it to class on time. Even in summer he wore heavy, thick layers of clothing.

It just went to show you never really knew a person until you were in close proximity.

Hermione opened the door to the hallway tentatively, looking up and down to make sure Snape had really left. She didn't see him and scooted down the hall to her apartment, letting herself in.

At the end of the corridor, Snape materialized with a smirk, then walked back to the exercise room to finish his workout.

He had no doubt Mrs. Weasley wouldn't be back for the rest of the morning. He removed his shirt again, resting it on a bench beside him.

As he did his reps, Snape's mind drifted back to his interaction with Hermione and her reaction to him. Seeing the witch so distressed had been rather fun. Almost as fun as setting up her children or menacing his students when he worked at Hogwarts.

Done with working his upper body, Snape headed for the treadmill, got on and began an easy jog. Yes, this was quite nice.

After several minutes, the wizard began to perspire and feel the welcome burn he was looking for. If Hermione found his presence disturbing before, she should have gotten a look at him wet. Snape was in his fifties, but fifty wasn't old for a wizard at all.

The man looked damn good for his age.

Damn good.

* * *

A/N: Dun dun! Lol. Had to jump right in there. Fun eh? Thanks for reading. 


	22. Two Meetings

**Chapter 21 Two Meetings**

"Oh where the hell are they, damn it?" Hermione cursed, digging under the bed for her comfortable slippers. They were made of terrycloth too, with heavy bottoms and Hermione wore them around the site, everywhere really. They were so soft.

"Did I leave them in the exercise room?" she asked herself, getting up off her knees.

She could wear her trainers, but she really liked those slippers.

"I must have left them in there this morning," she muttered to herself, walking out of the apartment and down the hall toward the exercise room.

Severus had finished his jog and was now in the shower room, washing the sweat from his body. He stood beneath the spray, enjoying the cool water pouring over him after his run.

Hermione opened the door and immediately heard the water running.

"Oh what now?" she said, thinking something was broken. She walked to the door of the shower room just as Professor Snape turned around to let the spray hit his back, water streaming down his face and body, his black hair plastered to his head . . .

"Oh my gods!" Hermione exclaimed covering her mouth.

The wizard's eyes flew open and for a moment, he and Hermione stared at each other, the witch's shocked amber eyes dropping to his loins and growing wide. Then, she was gone as if she disapparated.

Snape leaned forward a little and wiped the water from his face, blinking at the empty spot, then turned and cut the water off. He ran his hands through his hair once more to press out the excess water.

"You'd think she'd never seen a naked wizard before," he said to himself, grabbing a towel and beginning to dry himself off.

Hermione ran back into her apartment, closed and locked her door, staring at it as if she expected it to be blasted off its hinges as she backed up and fell into the armchair, her eyes still wide as the image of the Professor's nude body still swam before her.

She had never seen a cock that size in her life . . . not an actual one. She had curiously watched one of Ron's blue Pensieves while he was at work and there was a wizard in there who had a tool that was enormous, but Hermione was certain it was a purposeful distortion created to make the Pensieve more arousing.

Well, there was no spell on the Professor. What was hanging between his legs seemed more suited to the face of an elephant than a wizard's body. He wasn't even erect! And what's more, he was hairless, his pelvis completely smooth. Did he . . . did he shave down there?

Hermione shook her head as if she could get that image out of her mind. Oh gods, this was more information about the wizard than she ever wanted to know. She had seen Severus Snape naked. Would she ever recover?

Hermione shuddered and just sat in the chair for the next half an hour. She didn't want to run into him. Then she heard the female voice speak out, rather muffled. The Professor must have left otherwise there would have been no announcement. Hermione retrieved her trainers, the comfortable slippers all but forgotten. If she had looked under the covers in her bed, she would have found them at the end of it. She had worn them while reading in bed last night and forgotten she had them on when she fell asleep.

The witch put her trainers on, opened the apartment door, looked up and down the hall carefully, then rushed into her lab to gather her research. The Professor was supposed to come after lunch to discuss the project. No doubt he'd be there on time. She had to put together a hasty presentation, which normally wouldn't be a problem, but she flushed crimson every time she thought about what she'd seen.

Dear gods. Who'd sleep with someone like that? He was . . . he was abnormal. That's all Hermione could think of as she walked back to her apartment, her arms full of parchments with diagrams and notes scrawled all over them. She headed into the study and piled them all on the table, pulling out her wand and enlarging it to accommodate them, then set about arranging them in order, from initial notes and sketches up to the point she was now. She drew two chairs up to the table, first putting them side by side.

Then she thought about it and put them on opposite ends.

Much better.

Then she took a quill off her writing desk, sat down and began to read the parchments painstakingly, using her wand to clear errors and the quill to rewrite portions. When she had scrawled these notes down, she hadn't known anyone else would be reading them. She sent Bartleby copies of her carefully written notes and conclusions. These notes covered the process itself. If she remembered correctly, Professor Snape always wanted to understand the thought processes involved in reaching the conclusion as well as the conclusion itself. She doubted he had changed and most likely would be looking for mistakes and errors.

Well, he wouldn't find many if any at all.

Hermione suddenly realized that most likely she had made a perfect score on the test she was given when she initially accepted the job, and the Professor had done like he always did, given her a lower mark.

Bastard.

Well, she'd find out if that was what he'd done and take him to task for it. He couldn't give her detention now.

Her indignation served to stave off her trepidation. The way she felt right now, the Professor could flounce into the study in his altogether, do a randy bump and grind and she'd still give him a piece of her mind and maybe a good kick in the nads to boot.

She focused and spent the next two and a half hours making everything perfect.

The female voice announced lunch and Hermione reluctantly rose from her work, grabbed a sandwich she'd made the night before and a bottle of water and went outside. She spent a quiet hour wandering the path, looking at all the "Keep Out" signs and thinking maybe now she could find out what the wizard was protecting without getting covered in pink bubble gum and sucked back into the building.

The warning whistle sounded and Hermione headed back to the worksite. From the right, Hermione saw Professor Snape striding toward the building. She picked up her pace, hoping to beat him inside, but the wizard saw her and increased his own speed. They reached the door at the same time.

Hermione stared at the closed door as if it were the most interesting object in the world. The Professor's black eyes glittered as he watched color seep up from the collar of her robes and wash across her face.

"Has your time alone here mucked up your manners, Mrs. Weasley? You saw me first. I believe at least a greeting is in order," the wizard said to her.

"Hello Professor," Hermione said in a strained voice.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," he replied, amusement in his voice.

Suddenly the door to the building swung open.

"Professor Severus Snape. Mrs. Hermione Weasley. Authorized to enter," the voice announced.

Hermione walked in, followed by the Professor, who purposely fell behind the nervous witch. He found it a bit amusing that the mother of two children was so . . . so repressed and flustered. It was obvious she had to have been in contact with a cock at least twice in her life. So why did the sight of one make her so upset?

He considered.

Maybe because it was his tool and not her husband's. Yes. That was it. The same with his shirtless body. She was only used to being in her husband's presence that way. Oh, she probably had been to beaches and the like, but that was a public area, not a solitary room where she was alone with another man not her husband. Yes, that might be enough to make her nervous and skittish.

Snape had never been with a woman who only had one lover. He either shagged female Death Eaters when young or prostitutes when he grew older. He had never been with a woman for any other reason than the desire to use her body for physical release. He had loved Lily, but never touched her, never even kissed her, though she often kissed his cheek when he pleased her in some way. That's as far as it went, however. So he never knew what that special connection between two people in love was like.

He had a feeling Ron had been Hermione's one and only, they were so young when they became involved. He thought they made an unlikely pair, Hermione being so much brighter than the red-haired wizard. Maybe the claims that opposites attract was true in some cases. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger had been as opposite as opposite could be.

But somehow, they made it work.

Hermione turned into her apartment and held the door for him to enter.

"My notes and diagrams are in the study, Professor. I suppose you'd like to look them over before we discuss the status of the project," she said to him, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

"Yes, I would. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," the wizard said, striding past her and walking into the study as if he owned the place.

Well, he did.

The Professor sat down and pulled several parchments toward him and began to read. Hermione sat down opposite him and watched as he did so, trying to anticipate his questions the way she used to do as his student.

* * *

Rod made his way down the dungeon corridor, choosing to skip lunch in the Great Hall. He remembered the stone he had found yesterday. It was in his other set of shabby robes. No one would be in Slytherin house now. It was the perfect time to examine his treasure. 

He said the password, then walked down the long, damp corridor to the double doors that opened on the low-ceilinged Common Room. He walked down the hallway that led to the boy's dorm area and entered his room. He opened his wardrobe, dug through the pocket of his robes and extracted the black stone, sitting down on his bed and placing it on the nightstand. His blue eyes studied it.

"You're not an ordinary stone," he said, "Someone put those symbols on you for a reason. You must be magic."

The stone sat there, silent as Rod stared at it.

Rod was a young wizard who had no one he desired to be resurrected. His only desire was to be treated decently, or better yet, be treated with respect or even looked up to as someone special. He knew it would never happen. But if it were said that Rod Dolmer Dormers wanted anything in this world, it was to be noticed for being something other than being what he was. Nothing.

Carefully he picked up the stone, staring at the symbols, trying to decipher what in the world they could mean. He had no hope of doing that. He knew as much about the Deathly Hallows as he did about rebuilding a muggle car engine.

Hesitatingly, he used a finger to roll the stone over in his palm. Suddenly the room seemed to darken. He sat there, frozen, his heart pounding.

Then he heard a horrible noise. Slight, wheezing, painful as if something were having trouble drawing a breath.

It came from behind him. Whatever it was, it was in his bed with him. He didn't dare move as the noise continued . . . weak. Laborious. Pitiful. Then he was aware of a flapping, flailing noise, muffled by the softness of the bed. It sounded as if something were struggling to rise, but couldn't. The bed sheets shifted slightly.

Slowly the blonde wizard turned his head toward the noise, his body following as he twisted to see what the stone had created. He stifled a cry as he saw what it was and scrambled up from the bed in horror.

There, lying on his quilt was a . . . a thing that had the form of a small child. The skin was raw looking and rough, as if it had been flayed. It shuddered.

Rod stared at it. It was some kind of child, something that he felt had been abandoned, deserted. Left alone. As frightening as it was, Rod couldn't help but feel a bit of pity and compassion for the creature.

Suddenly, the thing seemed to have a reaction, a kind of response, the shuddering ceasing as Rod's emotion washed over it, strengthening it. It rolled toward him, and Rod could see its face was deformed. It had slits for a nose and the eyes . . . the eyes seemed crimson. It mewled at him piteously.

"What are you? Why are you suffering like this? Are you sick? Injured? Is there any way I can help you?" Rod asked the creature.

As Rod's concern washed over it, the thing was able to uncurl fully, its eyes focused on the young wizard's face. The skin seemed slightly less raw now . . . now that someone had feeling for it, feeling it could not provide for itself because it just wasn't there. No capacity for compassion, for understanding or for love was within this remnant, this distorted soul. There never had been from the beginning.

But it could feed off those emotions, those feelings, those benevolent leanings if provided by another. Feed off them and gain strength. More compassion. It needed more.

Feebly, the thing reached out a long, thin arm toward Rod as if asking him for help. Rod hesitated. It didn't seem to have any teeth and was weak as a newborn niffler. Tentatively, Rod reached toward it.

His hand passed through the long thin limb. The creature wasn't solid. He couldn't touch it. It was some kind of spirit.

"Are you a ghost?" he asked the creature, thinking how horrible it must be to exist this way, even if it were a spirit.

Strengthened more by the boy's feeling, the creature nodded, able to sit up now. It was naked, its cock thin and longish. It reminded Rod of a snake as it rested between the thin thighs.

The creature gurgled as if trying to speak. Excited, Rod now sat back down on the bed, his curiosity overriding his fear as he tried to make sense of the thing.

"Are you trying to tell me something? Who are you? What are you?" the wizard asked the creature.

Again it struggled, making stronger sounds now, the lipless mouth clicking and working back and forth, the red eyes desperate.

Finally two thick words, formed, wet . . . gummy as if from a throat full of mucous.

"T-Tom," the creature said, a slight, forked tongue emerging for a moment then flicking back.

"F-F-Friend."

* * *

A/N: Oooooh shit. Now . . . is that trouble or what? I think we got our conflict, folks. A major one. Thanks for reading. 


	23. A Conversation

**Chapter 22 A Conversation**

"A friend?" Rod repeated, staring at the creature.

Voldemort nodded, becoming even stronger as Rod considered how awesome it would be to have a spirit for a friend. He had none after all, and was sure no one else had one like this, hideous though it was. It made him feel special. Tom could be his . . . secret. The boy's joy loosened the specter's voice further.

"I will . . . teach you to be strong," he said to the wizard, "To . . . be the s-s-strongest. Just listen . . . to me."

"To be strong? With magic?" Rod asked Tom excitedly.

"With magic . . . and more than magic," the ghost lisped back at him.

"But . . . but I'm not very powerful," Rod said, his eyes dulling a bit, "My teachers have all but given up on me. If it wasn't for written work, I'd probably fail most of my classes, Tom. Even my wand is a hand-me-down. It didn't choose me."

Voldemort studied the boy. He was full of empathy, but also bitterness that he refused to release. That bitterness could fuel his power, strengthen his abilities. Where there was bitterness, there was rage as well. Rage and darkness. It only had to be drawn out.

"You have it in you. Believe me. I see it," the specter lisped.

Rod met the creature's red eyes. They looked excited and hungry. It wouldn't look like that if it didn't see something. Still Rod was doubtful.

"I've never been good at anything. You'd have to be a miracle-worker to help me," the wizard said.

"I've done miracles, boy," Voldemort said, "Amazing things."

His skin was healed now, and he looked a bit . . . older. Larger.

"You're . . . growing," Rod said to him, "and your skin looks better."

The spirit's face was still deformed, but the boy was getting used to it

"Because of you. You like me," Voldemort replied, "As long as we remain friends, you'll keep me strong. In exchange, I will help you become stronger than you ever imagined. What is your name?"

"Rod," the wizard said, then frowned slightly, "But everyone calls me Odd Rod."

Voldemort chuckled a bit nastily.

"You do as I say, and they'll find out just how "Odd" you can be, Rod. You will get respect," the wizard lisped.

Suddenly a set of robes fuzzed in and settled on his body.

"Really?" Rod asked him, his eyes a bit dreamy.

It would be nice to be able to move about the castle and not be harassed, even spoken to in a friendly manner by others. Maybe, maybe he could make a few friends before he left the school.

Voldemort looked at Rod's shabby robes.

"Are you poor, boy?" the ghost asked him.

Rod nodded.

"I'm an orphan. I work around the castle to earn my way. Everything I own belonged to someone else," Rod said.

Voldemort looked at him soberly. He had his full voice now. Soft. Persuasive.

"I was an orphan too. The world isn't kind to orphans. It gives us nothing but misery. The only way for us to make it in this world is to take what we want. Nothing is given to us. Nothing, Rod. That is the first thing you must learn," the ghost said, "To go after what you want. Work toward what you want and when the time comes, seize it."

"But I don't want much. I could care less about my robes or anything like that. A decent wand would be nice though," the boy said, "One from Ollivander's. I could probably do better magic if I had that. But that costs money. I rarely have money."

"There are other ways to get what you want, boy. Is that bas . . ."

Voldemort caught himself. He almost called Ollivander a bastard. He still hated the wizard. He wasn't worth a damn to him when questioned about the Elder wand, only giving half-assed answers.

"Is Ollivander still running the shop?" Voldemort asked.

Rod shook his head.

"He died years ago. I think his daughter runs it now," Rod replied, running his hand through his dirty blonde hair.

"Ah, a witch. Witches are usually very soft-hearted," Voldemort lisped, "Perhaps you can play on her sympathies . . . offer to do her a service in exchange for a wand. Barter sometimes works. You are a poor orphan who has never had a wand. She'll melt like butter. You must go to Ollivander's as soon as possible and try to persuade her."

Rod blinked at the specter.

"You really think that could work?" he asked.

Voldemort nodded. He was about to say something else when the sound of voices approached.

"Quickly, turn the stone the other way!" Voldemort hissed at Rod.

The wizard quickly turned the stone just as the door opened and his three roommates entered. They were young wizards. Normally when a student moved up in grade, their accommodations were upgraded as well. If Rod had been paying tuition, he would have had only one other roommate and a semi-private room. But since he wasn't, he roomed with first and second year students year after year, having to watch them move on while he stayed put.

Even they didn't show him respect. Unther Coggins frowned at him.

"In here wanking off Rod?" he asked the wizard, who stood up and deposited the stone in his pocket.

Saying nothing, Rod opened his standing locker, took out a book for his next class, then walked out of the room as the boys laughed after him.

"What a loser," he heard one of them say as he pulled the door closed behind him.

He walked silently through the Common Room, which was slowly filling up with students, his brow furrowed in thought. He bumped into a burly seventh year, who pushed him roughly.

"Watch where you're going, Odd Rod," he growled, scowling at the wizard.

"Sorry," Rod muttered, exiting the Common Room and walking up the damp hallway that led to the dungeon corridor. He was thinking about Tom. He was a little scary, but sounded as if he knew what he was talking about and could do what he said he could.

Help him get respect.

Already the ghost or whatever he was had given him a good idea. Rod would have never thought of trying to barter for a wand on his own. If he had his own wand, he knew he'd do much better magically. If he had a good wand, maybe he wouldn't take so much guff off of people. His wand didn't hex well at all, so he didn't confront anyone or defend himself. He'd get his ass kicked. Even first years could do stronger spells.

Yes, he really needed to go visit Ollivander's shop.

Rod patted his pocket, feeling the reassuring hardness of the stone under the threadbare fabric.

The wizard smiled. Yes, he really felt that finally something could go his way. He had a bit of hope now.

And he had Tom to thank for that.

* * *

A/N: And the seduction begins. Ah the lust for power, the downfall of many great men. How can a mere boy who has nothing stand against that? Now, that that's all set up, let's see what's going on with Hermione and Severus in the next chapter. Thanks for reading. 


	24. Upwards and Onwards

**Chapter 23 Upwards and Onwards**

Hermione watched Severus meticulously read over her notes, study her diagrams and leaf through her journals, completely absorbed, his dark eyes shifting left to right. On occasion, his brows lifted and creased, and he cross-referenced one or two parchments as if comparing them, before continuing on. He didn't say a word to her during his perusal.

Bored, Hermione asked him if he would like something to drink. The wizard scowled at the sound of her voice as if it were an irritation.

"Fine," he said shortly, not lifting his eyes.

Hermione thought it was a less than gracious acceptance, but didn't say anything as she walked to the kitchen and poured two glasses of pumpkin juice. She returned and sat the glass beside the wizard, then sat back down at the other end of the table.

The pumpkin juice sat there, untouched as the wizard continued reading. Finally after two and a half hours, he put the last parchment down and sat back looking thoughtful. Then he looked at her.

"Still eager," the wizard thought as Hermione looked ready to start gabbing.

Well, so sorry Mrs. Weasley.

"I am quite satisfied with your work, Mrs. Weasley. You have quite a grasp on the technical workings of Charm development. Your progress with the Jaberia plants looks quite promising," he said.

Hermione blinked at him.

"Don't you have any questions?" the witch said to him.

"No. I don't. Your research was quite thorough and well presented. As I said, I am satisfied and wish you to continue your work," the Potions master said, rising.

What? This was it? He just reads her work and says "good job?" That wasn't "discussing" anything. She scowled slightly at the wizard.

"Wait, Professor. I have some questions for you then, if you don't have any for me," the witch said.

Snape looked at her with a bit of exasperation.

"I have work to do, Mrs. Weasley. I have no time to socialize," he said to her rather coldly.

"This is work-related," Hermione snapped.

Like she wanted to socialize with him. Not in a million years, the snarky bastard. Hell, she could have just sent the research over to wherever he stayed at if all he was going to do was read it.

Snape sat back down.

"Very well, Mrs. Weasley. Spout on," he said snarkily.

Hermione's eyes flashed at him and the wizard felt a bit of satisfaction on getting a rise out of her.

"Firstly, I want to know what I got wrong on the test you gave me when I was first hired. You just said yourself I have an admirable command of the technical aspects of the creation of Charms. So what did I get wrong?" she demanded.

Snape smirked at her.

"I see you still have issues about not receiving perfect marks, Mrs. Weasley," he purred at her.

"No, I have issues at not getting the marks I deserve. Now what did I get wrong, Professor? I have a right to know," the witch said, folding her arms.

Snape studied her for a moment.

"You answered every question correctly, Mrs. Weasley," the wizard said.

"Ha! I knew it! I knew I didn't get anything wrong. So why didn't I get perfect marks?" she demanded.

"The answers were correct, however you had a few spelling errors," he replied.

"What? Spelling errors? You took off points for spelling errors?" she said incredulously.

"Sloppiness counts, Mrs. Weasley. You should have rechecked your test before handing it in," Snape said evenly, enjoying her anger. "If you wanted a perfect score, you should have done perfect work."

Hermione let out a high-pitched squeal, her hands clenching into fists as she glared at the Professor. He didn't help any by smirking back at her.

"You are just as insufferable as when you were my teacher," the irate little witch snapped at him. "I can't believe you'd let a couple of spelling errors detract from my work. All my answers were right!"

"Believe it," he replied, making the witch even madder, "Now, is there anything else you need to get off your chest, Mrs. Weasley?"

Hermione stared at him, then realized she was acting like a child. He did justify why her mark wasn't perfect, and he was entitled to use his own system of grading. She visibly deflated. There wasn't anything she could do about it. She had so wanted to take him to task for being blatantly unfair. Oh well. On to the next topic.

"Yes. Since I know who you are, Professor, I'd like to be able to leave the worksite at will. I presume you had me regulated to one hour a day so you would be able to move about freely," the witch said, "I'd like to be able to get a bit of morning air sometimes, or to be able to walk about and clear my head if I have to give a problem a bit of extra thought. It makes no sense to keep me inside now."

Snape looked at her consideringly. She was right. It didn't make sense to keep her locked up now.

"Very well, Mrs. Weasley. The wards will be readjusted tomorrow to allow you to enter and exit the building freely. They will still be protective however," he said, "No unauthorized visitors."

"I understand that. Now what about the wards outside, Professor?" she asked him.

"What about them?" he asked.

"What are they guarding? Why can no one enter those areas?" the witch inquired.

"Those were my fields. I grow potions ingredients, quite valuable ones. I can't have them being trampled all over and I didn't want to be seen while attending them," the wizard said.

"What kind of ingredients?" Hermione asked excitedly, looking very impressed.

The wizard looked at her consideringly, then rattled off the list of plants, flowers and herbs he cultivated. Hermione looked fascinated.

"I even have a crop of Susarium Folani," the wizard said.

Hermione drew in a breath.

"You found a crop of Susarium Folani, Professor? That fungus is so rare. Oh my gods!" she said, her eyes lighting up. She had never seen the fungi living but had worked with dried powders made of it before.

"No, I didn't find it. I grew it," the wizard responded.

He thought Hermione would fly out of her chair she became so excited.

"But, but that's impossible, Professor. Wizards have tried for years to make the spores stick and generate. No one's been successful. No one," she said.

Snape scowled at her.

"Are you insinuating that I am lying, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked the witch, his nostrils slightly flared.

Hermione looked taken aback.

"Oh no, Professor . . . I didn't mean that at all. I'm just … just stunned you've managed to do it. How did you manage it?" she questioned him, all ears.

"I'm afraid that is a trade secret of Sparse Venues Inc. Mrs. Weasley. I can't expect to cash in on my discovery if I blabbed how I did it to everyone who asks me," he replied.

"Oh," Hermione said, feeling stupid.

Of course he wasn't going to tell her what he used. The witch brightened.

"Professor, do you think I could see the fungus? I've never seen it in its natural state," the witch asked him breathlessly.

Hermione reminded him very much of herself as a girl at Hogwarts. She was quivering in her chair. She didn't look too bad quivering.

"It is in a cave on the top of a mountain," the wizard said slowly.

"So. I can climb, Professor. Please, won't you show it to me?" she asked him, "Please?"

He studied her for a moment then said, "Actually, my current crop has matured and is ready for harvest. As you know the fungus must be quickly sealed when scraped or it loses potency, and the air removed from the container before sealing. It is rather difficult to do alone. Perhaps . . . perhaps having you along wouldn't be a bad idea. But if I remember correctly, you have a fear of heights, Mrs. Weasley, which is why you don't fly by broom."

"Yes, but I'd climb to the top of Mount Everest to see that fungi," the witch said with conviction.

If Hermione visited that cave, she wouldn't have to worry about climbing. There was only one way to reach it.

"I see," the wizard said, rising, "Very well, Mrs. Weasley. Consider yourself onboard. I will come retrieve you tomorrow evening just before sunset. The fungus doesn't do well in direct sunlight and I transfer it in darkness. Dress in comfortable, loose fitting clothing and trainers. I'll have gloves and a hairnet for you so you don't contaminate the fungi. Be sure to bring your wand. I'll be here about five."

"Oh, thank you Professor," Hermione gushed, a broad smile on her face. This was going to be her first adventure in ages.

"You're quite welcome," the wizard said, heading out of the study.

Hermione followed him. The wizard opened the door and turned to look at her.

"Might I make a suggestion, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked her silkily.

"Yes. What?" Hermione responded, still on cloud nine about harvesting the Susarium Folani.

"Next time you hear a shower running, call out and ask if anyone is using it before investigating," he purred at her.

Hermione turned all kinds of colors as the image of the wizard's naked body, shaved loins and huge organ returned.

"All right," she said in a small voice, wishing she could just disappear.

Snape stared at her for a moment, his head slightly cocked. He looked as if he wanted to say something else about the incident, but instead said, "Good day, Mrs. Weasley," and left Hermione's apartment.

"Oh gods. Why did he have to bring that up?" the witch said, flushing again, "I could have lived a happy life without ever dredging that up again."

She turned and headed for the study to collect her paperwork and push Professor Snape and his trunk of a tool out of her mind.

It took a while.

* * *

Snape slowly walked back toward his home, looking thoughtful. Yes, he could take down the wards now, both on the building and around his fields. He would leave up the basic protections however, including keeping his home warded. He didn't want the witch just "dropping in" for a visit whenever she felt like it. 

He had to admit it was nice to have someone to talk to after all his time alone. Hermione really was quite a brilliant witch. He'd be interested in discussing Charm theory with her at some time in the near future. He wouldn't begin planting until early spring, so he was going to have a lot of free time on his hands, even with his brewing.

Hermione might not be his first choice as someone to socialize with, but she was the only person available. He'd have to be satisfied with her for now. At least she had a brain.

Snape realized Hermione would be the first witch he'd be on friendly terms with since . . . since Lily. For the first time since her death, he didn't feel that usual twinge of guilt when he thought of her or that deep sense of sorrow he had grown used to. The wizard had received the closure he needed. She didn't hold him at all responsible for her death, or for Voldemort's rise. The despot's existence was a matter of destiny and more than likely he would have found another way to come to power if not with the Potions master's help. And what was most important, Lily had loved him. Always loved him.

The wizard breathed in the sweet air deeply as he realized that the lightness he felt was a clear conscience. He never had that before, not even as a child. His parents argued so much and like most children he inadvertently blamed himself for it. Finally, in his late fifties, Severus Snape knew what it was like not to be burdened with guilt.

He truly was free now.

* * *

Hermione hurriedly finished up her work and donned a pair of loose-fitting jeans, a long-sleeved shift and a set of blue robes. It would be cooler on the mountain. She tied her trainers then went outside to wait for the Potions Master. She was very excited. 

The climb might be a bit tough, but she'd make her way through it or get the Professor to help her. She was going to help him collect the fungus, so it was only right he'd help her over the most difficult parts of the climb. Besides, he would have told her if he thought she wouldn't be able to handle it, and probably take pleasure in the telling.

Suddenly the wizard strode through the trees. He wore black robes and had a bag strapped across his chest. Most likely it held everything they'd need to harvest the crop. The wizard stopped and eyed her.

"Are you ready, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded with a big smile.

"More than ready, Professor," she replied.

"Let us go then," he said striding up the path.

Hermione hurried to catch up with him. She noticed that there were no signs scattered about.

"What happened to the 'Keep Out' signs?" she asked him.

"I took them and the wards down for now. I won't be doing any planting for a few months. There's no need to waste the magic," he said shortly, "But that doesn't mean I want you trampling all over the grounds. The earth is hard enough after the winter months."

Hermione scowled behind his back. Her walking through those empty fields wasn't going to hurt anything. But she didn't respond.

They turned off the path and began walking through the forest, going around the mountain. Hermione noticed the mountainside became more barren and vertical. There didn't seem to be any way up this side. The trees thinned, turning to brush, then grasses, then barren ground as they walked. Finally they were at the mountainside. It seemed to go straight up. Hermione looked at the wizard.

"There's no way to climb," she said to the wizard.

"No there's not," the Potions master replied, checking his bag to make sure it was secured.

"But you said we'd have to climb up the mountain," Hermione said to the wizard, who studied her for a moment.

"No, YOU assumed we would have to climb the mountain. I never confirmed that," he replied.

"So how are we going to get up there then?" the witch asked him, "You have a broom?"

The wizard shook his head.

"Brooms don't work here. I have to protect my interests," the wizard said, looking a bit amused.

"So how are we going to get up there?" she asked him.

"I will carry you," the wizard replied, "We are going to fly up, Mrs. Weasley."

Hermione paled.

"Fly?" she asked for confirmation.

The Potions master flapped his arms, looking like a big black bird for a moment.

"Yes, fly. Unless you wish to return to the safety of your apartment," the wizard said, "I am fully aware of your . . . fear of flying."

Hermione looked at the wizard. Was he trying to be funny? There was a book entitled "The Fear of Flying" by a muggle author Erica Jong about the sexual escapades of a married woman who desired to "fly free." Was Snape . . . no. No he couldn't be. He had to be referring to her dislike of brooms.

Then Hermione remembered that Professor Snape could fly without a broom. The fungus was quite valuable, it figured he'd have it someplace nearly inaccessible and make sure no one else could access it but him. But flying?

And if she did go, that meant . . . that meant she'd have to be in close contact with him. Oh gods. That was the last thing she wanted. Her eyes drifted over the wizard for a moment, completely unaware that she was doing it, her gaze lingering on his loins for a moment.. The Professor was quite aware of her perusal however as well as where her eyes rested for a moment.

He must have made quite an impression.

"The sun's not going to wait for us, Mrs. Weasley. Do you stay or do you come with me?" he asked her impatiently.

"I'll go," she said, her voice still quite trembly.

The wizard opened his arms.

"Come here, Mrs. Weasley," he said to her, his dark eyes glinting a bit.

Hermione hesitated, then walked forward, stopping a couple of inches away from him.

"You're going to have to get closer than that witch," the Potions master said in a low voice.

Hermione took a small step forward, still not coming in contact with him.

The wizard scowled, then grabbed her, pulling Hermione tight against his hard lean body, the witch gasping as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Put your arms around me," he directed, "Hold on to me as if your life depends on it . . . because it does."

Hermione felt disoriented as she wrapped her arms around the wizard. He felt so much different than Ron. They were pressed body to body and to her horror, she could feel his cock. It wasn't hard, but her body was pulled tight against the bulge.

The Professor was very aware of Hermione's soft curves pressed against his body. It was a contact he wasn't used to. When he engaged prostitutes, he always took them from behind. He steeled himself, trying not to react to the feel of the witch's body against his own. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to fight nature and throbbed. Hermione felt it and instantly stiffened in his arms.

Not knowing what else to do, Snape breathed "Locomodres" and took off with the witch, both of them rising, Hermione clutching him tighter as she fought the urge to wrap her legs around him for added support. That would only make a bad situation worse.

They didn't ascend too quickly, the wizard rising slowly so they could adjust to the thinning air. Hermione was petrified for two reasons. Firstly, because they were flying and she was scared to death of heights and secondly, because the Professor had a full-blown erection beneath his robes that was pressing and pulsing against her belly.

Snape was aware of his condition too, but his hard-on was purely reactionary and there was nothing he could do about it now.

Distinctly uncomfortable, witch and wizard slowly ascended up the mountainside, entwined and breathing heavily . . . and not just because of the dwindling oxygen content.

* * *

_**A/N: Finally, another chapter. Thanks for reading and for being so patient. I still feel out of it because of the pills, but I've finished them and the scratch on my cornea has lost that cut-glass feeling and is just a little burn now. It's bearable.**_

**_A/N/N: I'd like to offer those of you waiting for updates to this story, a completed story I am in the process of uploading entitled "A Song for Severus" In this story Hermione and Severus are already involved and there is a terrible secret being kept that threatens to break them apart. Draco Malfoy is also a main character, as well as Bellatrix LeStrange, Fenrir Greyback and Remus Lupin. It's a very involved story with quite a few original characters that flesh it out and bring some danger to the plot. Plenty of sizzling heat between our Potions Master and our fav brilliant Gryffindor, who is no retiring flower. So, if you find yourself in need of more reading materialand some naughty interactions, give it a look. Thanks. Ruth._**


	25. Harvesting and Initial Connections

**Chapter 24 Harvesting and Initial Connections**

Snape and Hermione landed on the ledge, the Potions master releasing the red-faced witch. He looked at her uncomfortably, his face slightly contorted. It was clear by her flushed expression that his little faux pas didn't go unnoticed. He didn't want the witch thinking that he had purposely put her in that situation. What happened was just . . . unfortunate.

"Mrs. Weasley, I am very sorry for my . . . reaction to you. I have not held a witch in such a manner in many, many years. It was not intentional, believe me," the wizard said to her apologetically.

Hermione blinked at him, then weakly said, "It's all right, Professor."

Her heart was still pounding however. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if Hermione hadn't actually seen the monster the Professor had swinging between his legs. As far as the witch was concerned, imagining it erect was worse than feeling it erect. Still, it seemed he hadn't really meant anything. He wasn't trying to take advantage of her proximity. He said it was just a reaction to having a woman in his arms. The Professor had been alone a very long time. Most likely what he said was true. Hermione never had the impression the wizard was a lecher when she went to Hogwarts. In fact, she thought the opposite. That he didn't deal with witches at all. He was too cold, too disciplined, too incapable of feeling to be a pervert.

Snape looked at her for another moment or two, then removed his bag, opening it and taking out several items. He handed her a pair of gloves, a hairnet and a face-mask.

"Put those on," he said to the witch as he donned his own items. When they were both situated, he told her to take out her wand.

"Use the Lumos spell, but keep the light as dim as you possibly can while still being able to see. We don't want to expose the fungus to too much light."

Then he took out what appeared to be a wooden knife, a few dark plastic bags and his wand. He pointed his wand at Hermione, who looked at him with wide eyes.

"Puris" he said, waving it over her, then himself.

"Just a purification spell. I don't want to take any chances on contamination," the Potions master said, "Now light your wand and follow me."

Snape lit his wand, a rather dull glow and climbed through the fissure. Hermione did the same and followed him.

The cave was black as pitch, and it took Hermione's eyes a little time to adjust to the dull light. She followed the wizard's slight illumination until it stopped.

Snape shined the light along the wall. A low-lying mass of dark brown fungi clung to the wall.

"Here it is," he said, almost breathlessly, sticking his wand into a small hole in the cave wall so it set like a tiny torch. It illuminated about a square foot of area.

"You'll find another hole about a third of the way down. Put your wand in it," the wizard instructed.

Hermione obeyed, then accepted a black plastic baggy from the Potions Master.

"Hold that as flush to the wall as possible under where I am scraping, pulling out the lip so it forms a pouch. Don't worry about pressing on the fungi. It has marvelous hold. It has to be removed," Snape said, resting the blade of the wooden knife just above the mold line.

Hermione moved forward and held the bag beneath the Professor's knife as he directed. Then he began to scrape, the bits of fungi falling neatly into the bag, the wizard moving downward and Hermione adjusting her position so she caught everything.

The only noise in the cave was that of the scraping and the two of them breathing. When Snape finished the area, he told her to remove the air and seal the bag. Hermione retrieved her wand, the cave darkening a bit as she used it to remove the air and seal the bag of fungus. She relit her wand and handed the bag to the Potions master, who held it up for a moment, then nodded curtly, placing it inside his satchel and handing her another bag.

It took them about three hours to collect all the fungi. Hermione wasn't the least bit bored. The wizard was so meticulous . . . it was like watching a master at work. They collected fifteen bags of Susarium Folani and it was easy to tell the Professor was quite pleased. He turned his wand up fully and looked at Hermione.

"An excellent harvest, Mrs. Weasley. I would have lost a third of the fungus if I were working alone. Expect a little bonus in your pay," the wizard said, a hint of a smile on his face as he added the last bag to his bulging satchel.

"It was fascinating, Professor. Thank you for bringing me," the witch responded with her own smile, removing her gloves, mask and hair net as the wizard did the same.

Snape looked at her for a moment, then said, "It is time for me to get you back to the site and put away my ingredients."

Hermione nodded.

It had been nice to do something different, though she enjoyed her work immensely, and it was even nicer to have company. She felt she needed to say this.

"Professor, it was nice working with you. I don't mind solitary labor especially when I'm concentrating on something, but it is nice to have a flesh and blood person to interact with as well," Hermione said as the wizard made his way through the fissure.

He looked back at her.

"I imagine that your weekends away provide you with enough contact to sustain you through the week," he said to the witch as he looked up at the night sky. It was full of stars.

"Well, it's nice, but you know it's family and friends and we just . . . chit chat. I can't have an interesting discussion about Potions or Charms or Theory . . ." she said hesitatingly, then hastily added, "But I enjoy them very much. It's just sometimes I wish there was a bit more . . ."

Snape looked at her.

"I imagine now that you're away from your domestic lifestyle, your brain is begging to be fed," he commented.

Snape knew how she felt. It had been a long time for intelligent conversation for him as well.

"I guess you could say that," Hermione said, then she hesitated again. She really would like to sit down and just talk with the wizard. Professor Snape had been a brilliant teacher. No doubt he was still brilliant.

Snape looked at her.

"I can tell you want to ask me something, Mrs. Weasley. Your mannerisms have not changed all that much over the years," he said to her, "So whatever it is, ask."

"I was wondering if we could . . . could meet maybe one evening a week and just . . . just talk, Professor. I'd like to have a bit of intelligent conversation in my life and you are one of the most intelligent people I've ever met. I don't want to be intrusive, however. I know you're used to solitude . . ."

Her voice trailed off. She didn't know what else to say.

"I'm afraid my timetable would clash with yours, Mrs. Weasley. You see, on Friday mornings I ship off my completed potions and other projects and then prepare my labs for the next week's work. Weekends are the only time I have any truly free time, and you leave the premises on Friday evenings," the wizard said.

Hermione looked at him.

"I could leave on Saturday morning, rather than Friday night. The children are back in school now, and they were the main reason I would leave early. Actually, now that I have free range of the site, I probably won't leave every single weekend, Professor. Only once in a while, so I don't wear out my welcome at the Burrow and Harry's house," she said.

It really wasn't good to pop in on people EVERY weekend. It was fine when Hugo and Rose were about, because she could do her motherly duties and such, but now that they were back at Hogwarts, it just wasn't as important she constantly show up. She'd feel like a burden, though both Harry and Molly would heartily disagree.

Snape didn't say anything for a moment as he looked at her consideringly. She had that eager look in her eye that said, "There's knowledge afoot."

"If you are willing to give up an evening to talk, Mrs. Weasley, then I will accommodate you, if only to insure your brain doesn't atrophy any further from lack of intellectual stimulation," he conceded. "Expect me this Friday at about seven."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Professor!" Hermione said, "And we can make an evening of it. Have a bit of food and drink as well. Maybe dinner before we get down to it."

Hm. That didn't sound too bad at all.

"Make it so, Mrs. Weasley," he said to her with a wry smirk. She was turning this into an adult version of a tea party. Well, it would be good to spend some time away from his home and work his own mind a bit. Hermione was a ferocious debater in her time. Hopefully she hadn't lost her talent for it. He'd like a bit of verbal sparring.

Hermione smiled as she just stepped into the wizard's arms, the earlier situation all but forgotten.

"Locomordes," the wizard said, holding her tight against him and stepping off the ledge.

This time he didn't get an erection, though he was still aware of her curves. Hermione let out a stream of chatter as he flew with her directly to the worksite, asking him about what topics he'd like to discuss, what kind of food he liked, all types of questions to which he gave short one word answers. Hermione didn't even notice.

The wizard landed gently and released her.

"You are safely returned, Mrs. Weasley," he said to the witch, an amused look on his face. He hadn't heard so many words in years.

Hermione looked around, still clinging to his neck.

"Oh, so I am," she said, releasing him.

Snape looked at her as she smiled up at him, genuinely happy. He couldn't remember the last time he made anyone happy about anything, least of all, his presence.

"So I'll see you Friday at seven?" Hermione asked, seeking confirmation.

"At seven sharp," the wizard said as the door to the building swung open.

"Hermione Weasley is authorized for entry," the female voice announced.

"Good night, Professor," Hermione said, still smiling as she entered the site.

"Good night, Mrs. Weasley," the wizard replied, then disapparated as the door swung closed.

* * *

Eli and Hermione had their first run-in on Friday afternoon.

"I always cooks my master's meals," the house elf said to Hermione after deliver a raw chicken and assorted vegetables.

"Well you won't 'cooks' his meal tonight, Eli. He's my guest and I want to make a good impression," the witch said, carrying the chicken over to the sink and washing it thoroughly, pulling out the giblets and neck.

"Then you should lets Eli cook," the elf retorted.

"No. I am making chicken stew," the witch said, drying off the chicken and setting it on a cutting board on the counter. She took a large sharp knife out of a drawer and began to bone it.

"He won't likes it," Eli said, folding his arms across his chest and scowling at the witch. How dare she try to do his service?

Hermione spun on him.

"Have you ever made him chicken stew?" she asked the elf.

"No. Because he never asks for it," Eli replied.

"Maybe he never thought of it. I'm making it Eli and that's final. But you can make dessert, all right?" Hermione said to the elf as she went back to dressing the chicken, figuring allowing the elf to fix something would shut him up.

"Fine," Eli said, winking out.

Ron and everyone else loved Hermione's chicken stew. It was the one thing she made that she was completely confident about. She thought the wizard might appreciate a real home-cooked meal by a witch. Hermione was still rather domestic and had a strongly developed nurturing gene. Most likely, Severus Snape had never been 'nurtured' in his life.

Hermione got it right. The pale wizard tasted the stew and a true look of bliss crossed his face.

"This, Mrs. Weasley is delicious," he said to the witch, "It seems your domestic years had some benefit."

Hermione grinned from ear to ear.

"Ron loved it," she said, then fell silent for a moment.

"Mr. Weasley had good taste," Snape commented, filling his fork again.

They finished their meal, the Professor having wine with his and Hermione drinking milk.

Eli brought a small chocolate cake for his offering, giving Hermione a smug look before winking out.

Professor Snape cut a large slice for himself and a smaller one for Hermione. The witch had to admit it was delicious.

After the meal, Hermione and Snape retired to the study. At first the conversation was tentative and polite, the two feeling each other out. It was when Professor Snape said he always believed Potions were more challenging than Charms that the fire started and he found himself embroiled in a rather passionate debate with Hermione, who leaped out of her chair and strode back and forth like a preacher raining down fire and brimstone.

The wizard was delighted and they argued far into the night. It was after one o'clock in the morning before they agreed to disagree. Time had flown by.

"Well, Mrs. Weasley, it appears I have worn out my welcome," Snape said, rising.

Hermione could keep arguing for the rest of the night. Her face was flushed and she was highly animated. The debate had been good for her, doubly so because for the first time in her life she was able to tell the Professor exactly what she thought without fear of detention or point loss. And she took it to the mats.

"No, you haven't worn out your welcome, Professor. It's just late. I really enjoyed tonight," the witch said. He really had been excellent company.

"As did I, Mrs. Weasley," he said, a slight smirk on his face, "I haven't been roared at in that manner since I was a student myself. It was quite refreshing."

"Professor, could you call me by my name. Hermione?" the witch asked him suddenly.

It felt as if they were becoming . . . dare she think it . . . friends.

The wizard looked at her.

"I suppose if I did that, you would like to call me by my given name as well, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked her, frowning slightly.

"It would be nice, but I could still call you Professor. I'm used to it," she replied.

Snape looked at her.

"Very well, Hermione. I will relax my standards and call you by your given name if that's what you want," he conceded, "Though I prefer my title."

"That's fine, Professor," Hermione said, with a smile, handing him his cloak.

The Professor put it on and fastened it slowly, looking thoughtful. He had really enjoyed himself tonight. He hadn't sat and talked this way with a witch since Lily.

"I suppose you will be leaving the site tomorrow?" he asked the witch.

"I haven't decided yet," Hermione said to the wizard, walking him to the apartment door.

"If you decide you are going to remain on the premises, I am going to do a walkthrough through my fields tomorrow. I thought . . . I thought perhaps you might like to join me and familiarize yourself with my work," the wizard said, "But only if you're so inclined."

Hermione blinked up at him. The area was still a mystery to her. The idea of Snape revealing its secrets was quite tempting. Hell, she really didn't have anything to look forward to other than a lot of chatting about nothing and being dragged from shop to shop by either Ginny or Molly. She'd much rather make the rounds with the Professor and learn about the fields.

"I'm so inclined. What time?" she asked him.

"Eleven," the wizard said, "By then you will have had adequate rest. Wear comfortable shoes. There is much walking involved."

"I'll be sure to," the witch replied, walking up the corridor with the wizard.

Snape stopped and looked at her.

"Thank you for an enjoyable evening, Mrs. . . . Hermione," the wizard said, correcting himself.

This name change was going to take some time to get used to.

"Good night, Professor," Hermione said, smiling as the door opened, the female voice announced the wizard's departure and Snape walked out into the night. The crack of apparition followed him.

Hermione watched the door closed and nearly floated back to her room, feeling lighter than air. It had been a very enjoyable night, just as the Professor said. He was very good company and obviously needed socialization just as much as she did. The witch didn't remember him being so . . . so pleasant. But then again, those were dark times and he had much on his plate. He was a different man then. Life had changed very much for the Professor. He had to have changed with it in order to continue on.

Well, it seemed as if it were a good change.

Hermione removed her clothing and went to bed, falling asleep with a smile on her face as she dreamed about walking through the woods with a tall and dour wizard.

* * *

A/N: Moving along quite nicely. Thanks for reading. 


	26. Nurturing the Fields

**Chapter 25 Nurturing the Fields**

The next morning Hermione waited outside of the worksite for the Potions master to appear. The morning was bright and crisp, the trees beginning to turn, leaves of green, with hints of gold and red twirling and rustling in the limbs overhead. The air smelled particularly sweet, and Hermione's mood was still rather happy as if inebriated from the over flux of intelligent conversation she had enjoyed the night before after such a long time.

Professor Snape strode through the woods, wearing two large satchels, pale in the sunlight, his expression sober as his dark eyes fell on the witch. She was dressed in robes, warmly enough for the day. She smiled as she saw him and his lip quirked slightly at the welcome in her eyes.

"Good morning, Professor," Hermione sang out, her eyes drifting over the satchels strapped to him.

"Good morning, Hermione," he replied, inclining his head at the witch. "Ready for a bit of a walk?"

"More than ready," Hermione replied.

"Come along then. We have some ground to cover," the wizard said. And they were off.

They walked in silence for the first ten minutes, keeping to the path until they came to the first area Hermione recognized as one that used to have a large "Keep Out" sign. Actually, it was where she was first covered in the sticky bubble gum-like substance and unceremoniously pulled back into the worksite.

"You had some . . . interesting protections around your fields, Professor," Hermione ventured.

Snape looked at her sideways.

"Ah, the bubble gum. Yes. Well, I toned it down somewhat when you accepted the position. I remembered your tendency to break rules and adjusted my wards accordingly so only your pride would be injured rather than your body. The original wards were quite nasty and meant to disable intruders in a rather painful manner," the wizard said, "and I wanted you to be able to start work immediately rather than spend several months recovering in St. Mungo's."

Hermione turned quite red when the wizard referred to her tendency to test rules. Well, it was a good thing he did. Hermione would have ended up in the hospital. Trying to show she wasn't all bad, she referred to Rose and Hugo.

"At least I learned my lesson after the first experience. Hugo and Rose returned gum-covered several times," the witch said.

Snape couldn't help but give a short, quick smile.

"They . . . they may have had a bit of help with that," the wizard admitted.

Walking beside him, Hermione drew her brows together. Help?

"Help? What kind of help?" Hermione asked him.

"Let's just say they were more determined than you were when exploring my wards. They developed a way to test them to see if they were active by throwing objects over the ward line and seeing if they were affected in any way," Snape said.

"Those little imps," Hermione seethed, "You would have thought they learned their lesson after the first time."

"They are their parents' children, believe me, Hermione," the wizard said, his lip quirking, "You and Mr. Weasley were quite determined to circumvent several rules when you were students. The fruit doesn't fall far from the tree. In this case, I moved the ward lines back, so when they tested them, nothing happened and they believed the wards were down."

Hermione's mouth formed an "O."

"Oh, you didn't, Professor!" she exclaimed.

"I'm afraid their reappearance at the worksite covered in gum proves I did, Hermione. It was quite . . . entertaining," the wizard said, "And I noticed your son Hugo didn't seem to mind it at all."

Hermione shook her head.

"No, he loved it. He always said how cool it was, even when I punished him for it," she said, "But Professor, that was terrible to do to them."

"Think of it as a learning experience," Snape replied, "Things are not always the way they appear. The children learned to continue checking the ward lines even when they appeared down, thus avoiding any further gumminess. They learned, Hermione. I am still . . . a teacher."

"Yes, you are . . . but I think you were thinking of your own entertainment rather than schooling my children," Hermione scowled at him, trying not to smile.

It really was pretty funny.

"There was some entertainment value, yes," Snape admitted, turning to the right, Hermione following him. After walking over a rise, Hermione saw a cleared area, a harvested field. The earth was a rich, reddish color.

"This soil looks interesting," the witch said, kneeling and letting it run through her fingers as Snape removed his satchels and set them down. He opened one and took out two small baggies, then his wand. He touched the tip to each of them and enlarged them so they both contained about five pounds of powder.

"Yes. I grow my Jaberia plants in this field. I am going to treat it now. By spring it will be ready for planting," he said, handing Hermione a bag.

Hermione looked at it, then up at him.

"I'm afraid I had ulterior motives for asking you to accompany me, Hermione. I figured you would be just as helpful here as you were with the collecting of the fungi," he said.

"I should have known," Hermione said, smirking.

Actually she was glad she was going to help the wizard with his work.

"Start at the opposite end of the field and evenly spread the fertilizer over the soil until we meet. Try to use all of it," Snape said, striding away.

The field was rather large and it took about an hour to spread the fertilizer, which reacted with the soil, turning it almost black as the nutrients sunk in. This was a good indicator of how much coverage was needed and the pair got the work done admirably.

Snape stood at the head of the field, approval in his eyes.

"Good work," he said to Hermione, who returned the empty bag to him, "I believe you would have made a good farmer, Hermione."

"Thanks a lot," the witch replied, "But I think this would become quite tedious and mindless after a while."

Snape put away the bag and hoisted the satchels again, wrapping them around him.

"To one who doesn't have a love of Potions, yes, I imagine it could quickly become quite boring. But for me, this is part of the process and I find it rewarding work. What I grow here is very potent and powerful. The best of the best," he said with a bit of pride. "My ingredients could claim top galleon if sent to market. As of now only a small amount is actually sold. Hopefully your work will help me to increase my production," the wizard said as he began walking again.

They took care of two more fields before the Professor suggested they stop for lunch.

Hermione was quite hungry and agreed. They stopped at the edge of the next field and the Professor produced a large blanket from the other satchel and gave it to Hermione to spread, then two containers containing bread, cold chicken and potato salad, and two bottles of water. He handed a container and a bottle of water to Hermione, then they both settled on the blanket and began to eat.

The first five minutes was spent in silence, the pair taking the edge off their hunger and thirst, then Hermione engaged the wizard.

"When you actually plant, Professor, do you use magic to cultivate your crop?" Hermione asked.

"Only with the watering," the wizard replied, "As far as weeding and aerating the earth, I've found that the plants respond better to hands-on care. They are living things after all, and everything living responds to care."

Hermione blinked at the wizard, unable to believe this statement came out of the mouth of one of the coldest wizards she had ever known. But no. Professor Snape wasn't cold. That was the perception they all had of him back at Hogwarts. For years, he did all he could against the Dark Lord because of his love of Harry Potter's mother. Even after she was dust, he worked tirelessly to protect her son. He had done that because he loved her and continued to love her up to the time of his purported death. More than likely beyond that as well. Hermione thought about Harry and decided she needed to tell the wizard about the oath he had taken swearing to help him.

"Um, Professor, I need to tell you something I don't think is going to please you, but you have a right to know," Hermione said to him.

Snape rested his eyes on her for a moment as he chewed a mouthful of potato salad. He swallowed.

"Go ahead, Hermione," the wizard said.

"When I told Harry about you being alive and how you didn't want to see him, he took an oath to help you," Hermione said haltingly, "A wizard's oath."

Snape looked at her, but said nothing.

"He said he wanted to bring you some peace, some closure. What I'm concerned with is he will never be able to be free of that oath. That it will torment him for the rest of his days," the witch said.

Snape looked at her.

"There is no need to fear. Though Mr. Potter was as stupid and impulsive as ever when making such an oath concerning me, in this case . . . he met the requirement when he sent me the Resurrection Stone," the wizard said quietly. "The oath has been fulfilled."

Hermione's eyes went wide.

"You found closure?" she asked the wizard.

"Of a sort," the wizard replied.

Hermione was dying to know what happened but knew it was too personal to ask about directly. Snape didn't seem as if he were going to offer any information as he bit into his chicken. Hermione decided maybe she'd share some of her own experience with the stone.

"You know, Professor, when you sent the stone back to me, I was examining it, and Ron appeared," she said softly.

He looked at her, interested, but didn't say anything.

"He . . . he told me I had made him very happy and that he was proud of me, proud that I found a way to keep going and to take care of our family," the witch continued, her eyes beginning to glisten as she remembered their final meeting. "It was good to talk to him one last time. I was rather tempted to . . . to keep the stone and keep him here, but . . . but decided against it," the witch said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Snape looked at her.

"It is hard to let go of the ones we love," Snape said quietly, "A very human reaction, Hermione. What matters is that you did let him go."

She looked at the wizard.

"Were you tempted to keep . . . to keep Lily here?" she asked, afraid she had overstepped her bounds. But she wanted to know.

Snape shook his head.

"No. I had always loved Lily from afar. I never consummated my love as you and Mr. Weasley did. She was already beyond me when she was killed, though my love for her had not lessened. You see, we were never meant for each other, Hermione. My love for her, the guilt I felt at her death and my need for revenge against her murderer was the driving force that led me to do what I had to do concerning Mr. Potter and Voldemort. Lily Evans never belonged to me. She was my . . . my motivation. That was all she was ever intended to be," the wizard said softly, "So I couldn't keep her with me. I had no inclination to do so. My one consolation was that she did love me in her way. Not as I wished, but in as pure a manner as possible," the wizard said, his eyes distant.

Tears rolled down Hermione's face.

"That, that seems so . . . so cruel, Professor. To love someone so much, someone who was never meant to be yours," she gasped, her heart going out to the wizard.

"Life is cruel, Hermione," the wizard replied, "Just as cruel as to take a beloved husband away while you were both still in the bloom of life and love. We have no guarantees when it comes to Life. We can only be thankful we have it and do our best to keep it and to live it."

Hermione wiped her eyes and looked at him.

"We have to continue," she said softly.

Snape nodded and looked up at the sky, watching the birds wheel by, chirping and darting between the trees chasing one another full of the joy of living their small, quick lives.

"Yes, we must continue," he said, then began to gather up his container and bottle. Hermione handed her own containers to the wizard, who replaced them in the satchel.

"And at this moment, it's time to continue in the fields," he said, rising and offering the witch his hand.

Hermione took it and Snape pulled her up, then helped her gather up the blanket and fold it, then put that away as well.

"Let us go, Hermione. There's work to do," he said to the witch.

Together they made their way through the forest, each thinking his or her own thoughts.

* * *

Sunday, Hermione went to Harry's house and Professor Snape spent his day setting up for the next week's work. His mind turned to Hermione from time to time, thinking he wanted to see her, just to talk. 

"No. The witch needs her space," the wizard said to himself as he checked his stores for ingredients.

He didn't want to crowd her. It was as if all the years of solitude were weighing on him heavily, and the witch was a way to ease that weight. He had enjoyed her company this weekend. She was a good companion, and a hard worker. They had walked all over the forest and not once did she complain.

Having done all he could in his labs, he returned upstairs and walked into his bedroom. It was decorated quite sparsely. Nothing on the walls or floors, containing only a bed, a dresser, a wardrobe and a chair. There was a Master bathroom as well. He had only one decoration that sat on his nightstand. A framed, torn photograph of a smiling, red-haired woman. It was the picture of Lily he had taken from Grimmauld Place after tearing off the rest of it that contained James and Harry as a baby. He sat down on the bed and picked it up, studying it, running two pale fingers over her face, blinking down at the woman he had loved for all these years.

"Goodbye, Lily," he breathed, then opened the drawer of his nightstand and carefully placed the photograph inside, closing it slowly, putting away forever a memory that haunted him for most of his life.

"We must continue," the wizard breathed, laying down in the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

* * *

"It helped him?" Harry asked the witch, delighted. 

"Yes. He said he got closure, Harry. You did what you meant to do," Hermione said to the wizard, who adjusted his glasses several times.

"What did he say?" Harry asked her.

"He didn't say too much, only that he realized your mother was never meant to be his true love, only his motivation to stop Voldemort and protect you," Hermione said softly.

Harry looked at her.

"You know Hermione, that's so sad," he said to the witch, who nodded.

"Yes, it is, Harry. But . . . that was his destiny. There's nothing we can do about that," she said, "At least you helped him. That's what matters."

"Yes, I guess there is that," Harry said rather doubtfully.

"And . . . and I saw Ron too, Harry. I accidentally invoked him when Snape returned the stone to me. He said he was proud of me, and he said …" the witch began.

"He said what, Hermione?" Harry pressed.

"He said he wants me to find love, Harry. He doesn't want me to be alone for the rest of my life," she said, her eyes filling.

"Ron? He said he wants you to find love? Are you sure it was him, Hermione?" Harry asked her.

That certainly didn't sound like Ron. He was as jealous as a dragon guarding his treasure when it came to Hermione. Even after years of marriage he used to swell up if a wizard even looked at her with interest.

"It was Ron all right. He said things were easier to see from the other side, and that love is important and life should be full of love. He doesn't want me to waste my life or my love. He said, he said someone else could benefit from it," Hermione said.

"The afterlife must mature people," Harry said, shaking his head, "Our Ron would want you to go to the grave by yourself."

"I don't think so Harry. He loved me, he'd want me to be happy," Hermione said, wiping at her eyes.

Harry stared at her.

"So, are you going to start dating?" he asked the witch.

"No! I'm not going looking for anyone, Harry. If something should develop naturally, I'll take it from there," Hermione said evenly.

Harry looked at her.

"How is anything going to develop 'naturally' if you don't do anything but work and come here and to the Burrow. You're going to have to get out and about, Hermione," Harry said to her.

"Harry, Ron's only been gone a little more than a year. I'm not ready to go out. Really, I don't know anything about dating or things like that. I don't want to look for anyone. I'm happy as I am right now," the witch said.

Harry's green eyes rested on her.

"If Ron said that to you, he probably wants you to start looking about," the wizard said thoughtfully.

"No. Actually he said he wasn't telling me to start hunting for anyone, just be willing to explore if I start developing feelings for anyone," she said.

"But you can't develop anything if you don't go anywhere, Hermione!" Harry argued.

They argued for quite a long time before Hermione left, frustrated and irritated at Harry for trying to butt into a love life that didn't exist. A love life she wasn't ready to resurrect yet. She was still mourning Ron.

Harry listened to the sound of her apparition and scowled slightly.

Hermione was going to need some help, and he was just the wizard to help her.

* * *

A/N: Wow. Nosey friends. Got to love 'em. Nice connection with Snape though. Thanks for reading. 


	27. Another Change in Cirumstances

**Chapter 26 Another Change in Circumstances**

"No! It's too soon. You can't mean that, Harry! She hasn't even gone through a proper mourning period. It would be like she's cast Ron aside!" Molly Weasley yelled at Harry. "What do you think Ron would say if he knew Hermione was . . . was dating?"

Harry wanted to say that Ron wouldn't say anything because he was dead, but he knew that would just set Molly off. Ginny looked from Harry to her mother silently. She had told him this wouldn't be a good idea.

Harry looked at Mrs. Weasley and drew in a deep breath. He had to tell her about the Resurrection Stone.

"Mum, it's Ron's idea," the wizard said to his angry mother-in-law.

"What? What are you talking about Harry?" Molly demanded.

Harry explained to Molly about the Resurrection Stone, and how he had given it to Hermione, leaving anything about Snape out of it. In order to do that, he had to pretend it had been in his possession since the death of Voldemort. The witch listened, her face paling.

"You . . . you have a stone that can bring back the dead, Harry?" Molly said in a low voice, sitting down at the table now and staring at her son-in-law. "You have a stone that can bring back Fred and Ron and you never told me?"

Ginny dropped her head. She knew her mother was going to immediately think about Fred. She had never stopped mourning him.

"It didn't really bring people back to life, mum. Only brought their spirits back so you can talk to them," he said to her.

"Still . . . still I could see Fred and Ron again. They could be here with us again . . . even in spirit form," the witch said longingly.

Harry shook his head.

"The dead are happy being dead, mum. Fred and Ron wouldn't want to stay here," he said to her softly.

"Of course they would want to be with their family that loves them!" Molly snapped, "I can't believe you were so selfish to keep something like this from me … from us! And think about Remus, Tonks . . . even Dumbledore!"

"Mum, they don't come back in the body. They are better off where they are, now stop it!" Ginny said to her mother, her eyes filled with tears as Molly rattled off the names of the dead. "They are gone. Let them rest!"

"Where is the stone, Harry? Go get it!" Molly demanded, her brown eyes flashing.

"I've gotten rid of it. It's where no one can reach it, mum. It's too dangerous. Too tempting. The dead could be made prisoners here if it fell into the wrong hands," Harry said to her evenly.

"Gotten rid of it? Where?" Molly cried, her eyes getting a bit wild, "You know where you put it. You can go get it! I want to see my Fred! I want to see my Ron!"

Harry now realized Ginny had been right when she said she thought they shouldn't tell Molly. The witch was the kind of person who would selfishly trap the spirits of her loved ones here on earth just to be close to them. He hadn't meant this to happen. He just wanted to let her know Ron wanted Hermione to move on and find love.

"You can't mum. It's gone, believe me," Harry said, feeling horrible as tears streamed down Molly's face.

She stared at him, her face suddenly contorting.

"I can't believe you had the means of bringing people back all this time and never let anyone know. You are a cruel, selfish wizard, Harry Potter, just plain cruel and selfish!" Molly hissed at him, rising and exiting the house, the sound of apparition closely following.

Harry looked at Ginny.

"I should have listened to you," he said softly.

"Mum can't seem to let anyone go, Harry. She still cries about Fred and Ron as if they just passed yesterday. It's just the way she is. She didn't get closure at their deaths, and if she could bring them back, she'd be just like the brother in the story who kept his love with him, despite how miserable she was. She'll come around after a while," Ginny said softly, placing her hand on that of her husband's.

"I hope so," Harry replied, his green eyes sad.

* * *

Hermione and Snape spent their week involved in their usual pursuits, not seeing each other at all, although Hermione sent Severus a container of chicken stew for lunch via Eli on Wednesday, think the wizard might enjoy it. He might have if Eli had actually delivered it, which he didn't. 

"This is for your master," Hermione said to the elf, handing Eli the container.

Frowning, Eli winked out and returned to the house, promptly dumping the entire container into the trash bin.

"She says it is for the master, but not to delivers it," the elf muttered, fixing Snape his usual sandwich and pumpkin juice.

That Friday when Snape came to visit, Hermione asked him if he enjoyed the stew she'd sent.

"Stew? What stew?" the wizard inquired as he removed his cloak and handed it to Hermione.

"I sent you a container of chicken stew for lunch on Wednesday," the witch said, "You seemed to like it so much last week and I had made a bit for my dinner Tuesday night. You didn't get it?"

Snape scowled.

"No, I didn't," the wizard said, then "Eli?"

The elf winked in and bowed.

"Yes master?" the elf responded.

"What happened to the chicken stew Mrs. Weasley sent over to me on Wednesday?" the Potions master asked the elf, whose ears flattened. He'd been caught.

"Eli always fixes the master's lunch," the elf said sullenly, "Is my service."

Snape's eyebrows lifted before he frowned at the elf.

"Eli, I happen to enjoy Mrs. Weasley's stew. From now on if she sends something to me, I expect you to deliver it. You don't have a monopoly on what I eat," he said to the elf severely, "And no punishing yourself. Just deliver what you are given to deliver."

"Yes sir," Eli said, giving Hermione a dirty look before winking out.

"He's certainly territorial," Hermione said to Snape, who nodded.

"He was my sole companion outside of Bartleby for a good many years. I imagine he feels a bit of jealousy toward you," the wizard said, leveling his eyes on Hermione, who blushed slightly.

"He has no reason to be jealous. I'm not going to steal you away from him for goodness sakes," the witch murmured.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her, then reached into his pocket and pulled out an issue of Potions Today, handing it to her.

"Look at the article on page forty-three," he said to the witch, who opened the magazine, read the title and gasped.

"This is ridiculous! The study of Charms is just as much if not more challenging than that of Potions!" she exclaimed, not realizing Snape had chosen that article to encourage the continuance of last week's argument.

"The author makes several good points," he said, pissing the witch off even more as her nostrils flared. She dropped down into an armchair and angrily read the article, mentally building up her arguments.

The Potions master swore he could see her swell.

Snape didn't make it out of Hermione's domain until one-thirty that night, lucky to get his magazine back in one piece. Hermione had flung it about roughly as she gesticulated and raged against the idiot statements made in the article.

"How could they even publish such an idiot? I have half a mind to write a rebuttal, though I doubt a Potions periodical would publish anything that challenged their one-sided and erroneous views!" she raged.

Snape thought Hermione was magnificent and let her curse and browbeat the author for more than half an hour before letting her target him as he agreed with several points made. Gods, she was a little spitfire, and passionate about her field. He thought she'd start a full-fledged war in defense of Charms if she had to. He could easily see her going to blows over it.

It was quite an enjoyable evening, though Hermione was worn out by the end of it. The Professor left with a small smile on his face. Tomorrow she was going with him to his greenhouse, again to work. He looked forward to it.

* * *

On Sunday, Hermione went to the Burrow and found a very agitated Molly Weasley waiting for her. Molly wasted no time. 

"You spoke to Ron?" the witch asked her jealously.

Hermione looked at Molly wide-eyed, realizing Harry must have told her.

"Yes, I did," the witch said carefully.

"Did you know Harry had a stone that could bring him back?" Molly demanded of her.

"No, I didn't Molly," she said.

"Why did he give you the stone and not me? I'd love to see my boys again," Molly said miserably, "They could be with us always."

Hermione stared at her mother-in-law.

"I think that's why, Molly. The dead belong where they are. Not among the living. They have their own place to be and are content there. They have to be let go. Molly, be honest . . . if you had Fred and Ron here now, would you be able to let them go back?"

Molly blinked at Hermione with tears in her eyes.

"I just miss them so much, Hermione," the witch said, beginning to sob.

"I know. I know you do. I miss Ron every day," Hermione said softly.

Molly looked up at Hermione and wiped her eyes.

"Harry said Ron told you to start dating," the matriarch said.

Hermione scowled.

"No. He didn't say that. He said he wanted me to find love though. That he didn't want me to spend the rest of my life alone," the witch said.

"Now?" Molly asked her.

"No. Just if the opportunity presents itself," Hermione said soothingly.

"It's . . . it's too soon, Hermione. Ron is barely cold yet," Molly said, "It would be terrible of you to start going out with other wizards. You're my son's wife."

Hermione nodded.

"I agree it's too early, Molly, but you've got to recognize something for what it is. I'm no longer your son's wife. I'm his widow," Hermione said softly.

Molly looked at her then let out a sob as if her heart was breaking. Hermione slid closer and wrapped her arms around the witch's quaking shoulders and held her, tears of her own sliding from her eyes.

* * *

Rod returned to his room, Voldemort walking beside him. The young wizard discovered shortly after the first time his roommates appeared in his room, that they couldn't see his friend. What had happened were the boys crept quietly up to the room and listened, hearing Rod talking then threw open the door. They saw Rod but not Voldemort sitting on the bed. 

"Talking to yourself, Odd?" one of the boys asked him.

"Thinking out loud," the young wizard replied, standing up and leaving the room as he always did when they appeared. Voldemort followed him.

His appearance was more like he was as Tom Riddle, the spirit realizing that appearing as he died might have a negative effect on Rod, who wasn't as dark as the despot hoped, though very sympathetic to him, keeping him strong. Voldemort convinced him to keep him with him for much of the time, because when he wasn't with Rod, he wandered through utter darkness. There was nothing for him on the other side. Nothing at all but his consciousness. It was worse than Hell. It was what he'd always imagined Death to be. Utter darkness and solitude.

He wandered the familiar ground with Rod and accompanied him to Ollivander's wand shop where Rod met the proprietor. Mary Ellen Ollivander, who was indeed sympathetic to Rod's situation. Rod chose a wand, or a wand chose him rather. It was made of birch, 11 and ½ inches long with a core of dragon heartstring. The reaction was quite strong. Rod was ecstatic, though it was another three weeks of hard work before he actually acquired it. Finally he brought it back to the school, hidden under his robes and quickly headed for his room. After making sure no one was about, he pulled it out.

Tom, who was sitting on the bed, watched Rod caress the wand lovingly.

"I can't believe it. My own wand," the boy breathed, then looked at Tom excitedly. "What should I do with it first?"

Tom eyed the wardrobe.

"Fix your robes. Transfigure them into something suitable to a Slytherin in good standing," the spirit told him, lisping slightly despite his human appearance.

Tom looked doubtful.

"I was never good in Transfiguration," he said slowly as he opened the door and looked at the threadbare robes hanging there.

"You have your own wand now, and you still managed to do some small changes with that old one. You have excellent concentration. You have to. Now try it," Tom urged.

Rod pointed his wand at the first set of robes, imagining a set of decent black ones. He flicked his wand in the proper manner and felt power fly out of him. The robes became black and lush, the fabric repairing itself, silver and green buttons appearing down the front. They were beautiful.

"Wow!" Rod said, pulling them out and swinging them back and forth, holding them against his body, "These are great!"

"Yessss," Tom agreed, his eyes glittering. They still had a bit of reddish cast to them. "Now do the rest of your robes, your shirts, ties and especially your shoes. But keep one set of ragged robes for this weekend. Let them see your new look come Monday."

"Yeah," Rod said, imagining how startled everyone would be to see him dressed nicely.

* * *

Monday morning at breakfast, Rod made quite an entrance in his new robes and bright shoes. His hair was neatly combed and his face looked a bit clearer. He felt a bit out of sorts however with the way everyone was looking at him as he took up his usual seat at the very end of the Slytherin table away from everyone else. Self-consciously he began to draw the food toward him. He didn't have Tom with him, though the spirit protested. He had wanted to see the reaction of everyone, but Rod felt he'd be under enough stress. 

"Where'd you steal the robes, Odd?" one Slytherin sneered at him.

"I didn't steal them. I transfigured them," the wizard replied. His housemates looked at him disbelievingly.

"You suck at transfiguration. Anything you do doesn't last more than five seconds," one girl said, frowning at him.

"Maybe I've gotten better at it," Rod replied.

He didn't tell them he had a new wand. They'd see soon enough.

And they did that afternoon in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Professor Artemis Flubbergone was the teacher for the past five years. The gray-haired, steely eyed wizard announced that there would be dueling practice and for everyone to pair off. As usual, Rod was left without a partner. He wasn't very challenging after all. Any spell he cast felt like a mere push, and anyone could blast him off his feet, despite him being very fast at blocking.

"I guess it's you and me as usual, Mr. Dormers," Professor Flubbergone said with a sigh. "Today we are practicing "Expelliamus."

"Er, Professor, I need to let you know…" Rod began.

Flubbergone waved a hand at him.

"I already am aware of how deplorable your wand work is, Mr. Dormers. That will not excuse you from making the attempt. No protesting," the wizard said sharply.

"But . . . but I," Rod pressed.

"Five points from Slytherin, Mr. Dormers," Flubbergone hissed, taking up a position across from the wizard, his arms down at his sides, "If you keep protesting you will lose another ten points."

"Shut up, Dormers," several of his housemates hissed at him angrily.

"Fine," Rod said.

Professor Flubbergone wore a bored expression on his face. He didn't even put his wand hand up in a defensive position, he was so used to Rod's spells feeling little more like a passing breeze.

"When you're ready, Mr. Dormers, do the spell," he said tiredly.

Rod looked at the teacher a bit apprehensively. Tom was with him now, a broad smile on the spirit's face. This was going to be quite good.

"The spell, Mr. Dormers," the Professor insisted.

Rod sighed and concentrated.

"Expelliamus!" he cried, throwing the spell.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was blown back through several desks and chairs and ended up wedged between some shelving at the back of the class, His upper body flopped between his lower legs, completely unconscious as Rod stared at him.

The class fell silent.

"Oh my gods, Rod, you've killed him!" one of the students cried as they all ran toward the teacher. One of the students cast an Ennervate spell and brought him around. They helped the dazed wizard out of his predicament, and he half walked half staggered toward Rod, who looked at him with wide eyes.

"I tried to tell you sir, that I got a new wand," the young wizard said apologetically, showing it to him.

The other students stared at the wand, then at Rod, their eyes round as they looked at him. He was very powerful. No one realized that all those years working with an inferior wand and having to focus with all his might to make anything happen at all had strengthened the wizard. Any spell he cast with a proper wand had very, very powerful intent behind it as a result of all that focus.

Professor Flubbergone straightened his robes and looked at Rod, his eyes glinting.

"Very well, Mr. Dormers. Now it is your turn to block my spell," he said as the students cleared away. No one was working with a partner now, all eyes on Rod and the teacher.

"Reducto!" the DADA teacher cried as the students gasped. The Reducto spell was very dangerous to use on another living person. No doubt Professor Flubbergone wanted to make Rod pay for making him look so bad in front of his students.

Rod blocked the spell with such power that everyone hit the floor as it ricocheted away from him, sparks of power flying. Even Flubbergone ducked, then rose quickly and cast another hex at him, which Rod also blocked. Then another and another, the spells becoming stronger and stronger as the class turned over desks and hid behind them as Rod blocked hex after hex, his confidence growing until finally Flubbergone was hit with a rebounding spell and petrified in place.

Rod lowered his wand and stared at the stiff teacher.

Slowly his classmates eased out from behind the overturned desks and walked up to the Professor, studying him before turning to Rod, every one of them silent and staring. Some of the eyes were a bit fearful.

Tom eased up to the young wizard and whispered into his ear, an evil grin on his face.

"You see that look, Rod? That, my friend is what you've always longed for. That, my friend . . . is respect," the wizard purred.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	28. A New Level

**Chapter 27 A New Level**

Gronin scowled at Rod when he showed up at the Thestral stables dressed in nice robes and shoes.

"Not dressed for work," the caretaker said to him, "Don't think you're going to skive off like you did last week. You've got a job to do 'round here."

"I'm dressed fine," Rod said, walking up to the stables and entering, Gronin shaking his head.

Rod was alone. He only brought Tom with him once here. The spirit had gone on and on about how unsuitable it was for him to do such grunt work, but Rod was used to it and it was how he stayed at Hogwarts. Rather than listen to Tom's comments, he returned him to the other side, which infuriated the spirit.

Rod entered the stable and looked at the empty stalls. He knew the Thestrals were there, but he never actually saw them, because he had never seen anyone die. He did see their dropping however, wet, pungent and plentiful. He pulled out his wand and set about using magic to clean the area. It certainly was more pleasant and efficient than using a shovel. Using a water spell, he carefully rinsed the area out and then using another spell, dried the area. It took him about forty-five minutes to do a job that usually took him three hours. He walked out of the stable. Gronin, who was cutting up raw meat to feed to the Thestrals, looked up at Rod.

"Where do you think you're going?" he growled at the boy.

"I've finished," Rod said to the caretaker, who dropped the piece of meat he was holding in one bloody hand and stalked into the stable, squinting as he looked about. The area was completely spotless, the air fresh. Usually, no matter how good a job Rod did, there was still some scent of dung.

Gronin spun on him.

"How'd you do this?" the wizard demanded.

"I used magic," Rod replied, "I got a working wand."

Gronin eyed him. A new wand eh?

"Well, new wand or not you've got other work to do. The hedges need trimming on the south side of the castle. Today," the caretaker groused, a bit angry that Rod didn't take much time to complete his chores.

"I'll do it now," Rod said amicably, strolling off as the wizard frowned after him.

A new wand. How'd he get a new wand?

* * *

After finishing the hedges, Rod took out the stone and turned it once, Tom appearing, frowning. 

"Done with your 'work?'" the spirit said bad-temperedly.

"Yes. I did it fast too. Having a good wand makes it a lot easier," Rod replied, walking up the stairs to the castle's double doors and pulling it open, entering.

"It doesn't make it anymore dignified. You're a Slytherin after all. You're not supposed to do menial labor," Voldemort hissed at him as he just passed through the doors as they fell back.

"I do what I have to do to stay here, Tom. It's not so bad really, I'm used to it," Rod said as they walked up the dungeon corridor.

"Are you used to being called a 'shit-shoveler" too?" Tom asked him with an ugly sneer.

Rod didn't answer him. Of course he didn't like it, but it was what he did.

When Rod entered the Slytherin Common Room, he was greeted by several smiling Slytherin witches.

"Hi Rod," they sang out as the male Slytherins looked up scowling.

Rod stopped and blinked at them, shocked. Girls never paid attention to him.

"Er … hi?" he said back.

Several of the girls grinned at him.

Slytherin witches always gravitated to wizards deemed powerful, and Rod had inadvertently fallen into that elite group.

"Looks like someone's going to get laid soon," Tom said in his ear, a lascivious grin on his face as he looked at the smiling witches.

Rod looked even more shocked and started walking quickly toward his room. Rod liked witches of course, but didn't even dare think about touching one, much less shagging one.

"I don't see why you're all mooning over that loser. So what he can block spells. He's still a bloody shit-shoveler," a male voice said.

Rod slowed at the comment.

Freud Backerbone, a seventh year Slytherin with black hair, brown-eyes who wore a perpetual scowl stood up and walked toward Rod, who turned around.

"He has no bloodline, no family, no ties to anything remotely important. He's not a proper Slytherin and will never be, I don't care how good he is with a wand," Freud continued, his eyes glittering. "He's a loser and will always be a loser."

"Hex him!" Tom hissed at Rod, who had his hand on his wand in his pocket, "Don't let him talk about you that way in front of the girls!"

Freud strode up to Rod and stared at him disdainfully as the witches and wizards in the Common Room watched them, their eyes narrowed. The brown-eyed wizard poked Rod in the chest pointedly.

"You know you're a loser, don't you Odd Rod? A wand's not going to change that. Neither is a new set of robes," he said, "A shit-shoveling, grounds-crawling, dung-digging loser."

Rod felt fury rising up in him as he met Freud's eyes. The wizard stepped back, challenge in his eyes.

"Come on, Rod. You didn't throw any hexes today except for Expelliarmus. Everyone believes you dueled Flubbergone, but you didn't. You just saved your own ass. I'm good with a wand. Try me. Come on, loser," Freud hissed, drawing his wand.

"Get him. Blast him to bits!" Tom urged Rod, who stared at the wizard first, then the breathless witches, their eyes predatory and excited. They wanted blood.

"Hex him!" the spirit cried as Rod didn't move.

"Say what you want, Freud. I don't care," Rod said, turning and walking down to his room.

"I'll add 'coward' to your list of faults, Odd," Freud called after him in disgust, then turning toward the witches who looked at him appreciatively.

Fuming, Voldemort walked behind Rod, wishing he was substantial enough to kick the wizard in his ass. How could he just walk away from that? It was his opportunity to show his power, to command fear and respect. The fucking idiot!

"Why didn't you fight?" Tom demanded as Rod entered his room, opened his wardrobe and placed his wand on the top shelf.

"Words are just words," Rod replied, "He didn't actually attack me."

Voldemort spluttered he was so disbelieving of what came out of Rod's mouth.

"He most certainly did attack you! He couldn't have struck a worse blow if he had hit you in your face! How you are in Slytherin, boy, I'll never understand!" Voldemort said despairingly, sitting down on the bed and watching as Rod began to undress. "The Sorting Hat must have been off its game."

Rod stopped unbuttoning his shirt.

"Sorting Hat? I wasn't sorted into Slytherin," the boy said.

Tom's eyes went wide.

"What do you mean you weren't sorted into Slytherin? All students at Hogwarts are sorted," the spirit said.

Rod shook his head.

"Not the ones in my situation. There's some kind of requirement that each house take in someone like me, who has no resources. Slytherin came up with the short straw when I arrived. They'd avoided students like me for years," Rod said to the ghost, then began unbuttoning his shirt again.

Tom sat there stunned as he looked at Rod. No wonder he was so weak, so even-minded, so compassionate. He wasn't a true Slytherin. Gods damn it!

The spirit watched Rod prepare for bed, his eyes narrowed. Well, his little display in the Common Room showed he wasn't a Gryffindor. They were courageous and brave. His grades proved without a doubt he didn't belong in Ravenclaw. Tom's face contorted as he remembered the verse ascribed to the characteristics of a Hufflepuff:

These belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal.

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil.

That sounded just like Rod. He was rather fair-minded to a point. His loyalty, well, he did stick with Tom despite the spirit's nagging. The young wizard was definitely patient since he'd suffered mistreatment for years, and he certainly wasn't afraid to work. Tom's face wrenched up into a distasteful expression. Dear gods, had he become saddled with one of Helga's lot because of some lunatic Hogwarts version of Affirmative Action? Damn the luck!

This was terrible. Just terrible.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Rod fixed himself a bowl of porridge and was just about to dip in his spoon when the entire bowl flipped over on him, covering his robes. Across the table and down a little ways, Freud and a couple of other Slytherins jeered at him as students throughout the Great Hall laughed uproariously. 

Rod pulled out his wand and easily scourgified himself, not bothering to look back at Freud or even reacting to the laughter. It died down rather quickly. Rod's lack of reaction wasn't fun at all. No one noticed Rod gave himself an extra little flick of his wand before putting it away.

"This is just too easy," Freud said to his cronies, aiming his wand at Rod again as he was about to drink some pumpkin juice.

The Slytherin flicked it and suddenly Rod's pumpkin juice flew out of his hand, toward the wizard and splashed him in the face. Again, the Great Hall erupted in laughter, this time at Freud, who stood up and spluttered, wiping the juice from his face and glaring at Rod. But Rod hadn't had his wand out, so he couldn't be blamed.

He had simply cast a repelling spell on himself. Normally, a repelling spell would just repel a hex, but Rod's had been so strong it reversed it. Freud soaked himself.

The Slytherin witches once again smiled at Rod, who looked at them soberly. He wasn't sure if he wanted their attentions though after yesterday. They had looked so bloodthirsty when Freud wanted to duel him. Their allegiances turned quickly. Rod looked back at the Gryffindor table, and found there were a couple of witches smiling at him from there as well, Rose Weasley being one of them. He smiled back.

This caused the Slytherin witches to frown at him blackly. He was smiling at witches from another house? Gryffindor? What kind of Slytherin was he? When they finished eating, they all stalked by Rod with their noses in the air.

He didn't even notice.

Very rarely were Gryffindors treated to witnessing any in-house fighting among the Slytherins. Freud wasn't well liked by them anyway, being one of the meaner of that house and not beyond hexing surprised Gryffindors, even first years by ambush. He usually got away with it too, his other housemates giving him alibis.

So seeing him drenched with pumpkin juice was quite entertaining. The fact that another Slytherin was responsible was plain hilarious.

However, the Gryffindor males scowled at Rod just as blackly as the Slytherin witches. He'd better not try to put any moves on any of the witches from their house, or there'd be hell to pay.

Freud left the Great Hall, glaring at Rod as he did so.

This wasn't over. Rod had embarrassed him in front of the whole school. No one embarrassed Freud Backerbone and got away with it.

Especially a shit-shoveling loser.

Rod would get his. Until then, Freud would just bide his time.

* * *

A few weeks passed, and Hermione had a real breakthrough with her growing Charm. Using her eco-lab, Hermione demonstrated it for Snape, casting the spell and showing the Potions master what she had accomplished so far. The growing cycle was about six months from seedling to mature plant. Hermione's plants grew to maturity within two and a half months. The excited Potions master harvested them and used them in a potion. He was delighted to find they were very potent. He came to the worksite to tell her of her success. 

"This is wonderful, Hermione," the wizard said to her, giving Hermione her first true smile. The witch froze in shock. Snape scowled at her.

"What's wrong with you?" the wizard asked her.

With raised eyebrows, Hermione looked at him as if he'd fallen from the sky suddenly.

"You're . . . you're actually smiling," she said to him, "Or you were. Not now."

"I suppose you expected my face to split in half," he said to her bad-naturedly, "Even I am known to crack a smile now and then. Particularly when I know my earnings are about to increase four-fold."

Hermione laughed.

"I'm sorry Professor, I'm just not used to seeing you actually smile. You usually quirk your lips or give a little smirk. You don't show teeth often, unless you're snarling about something," she said to him, smiling herself.

"Yes, well. I smile," he said, frowning as if to accentuate the point. "Anyway, we must celebrate your success. You will come to my home for supper this Friday. What is your favorite food?" he asked her.

Hermione stared at him.

"Your house?" Hermione asked him in amazement. In all the months they'd been interacting, Hermione didn't even learn where his house was, much less visit it.

"Yes, my house. Considering I always come here, it is only fair that you be allowed to enter my domain as well. Besides, this is a special occasion. Now, what is your favorite food? I will have it prepared," the wizard said.

Hermione stared at him blankly.

Snape glowered at her.

"Am I going to have to use Legilimency to find out what you like to eat, witch?" he asked her in an irritated voice.

That seemed to snap Hermione out of it.

"Ah no. I love . . . I mean if it's not too much to ask for . . . I mean, it's rather expensive and I . . ." she stuttered.

"JUST TELL ME WHAT IT IS!" Snape roared at her, completely fed up.

"LOBSTER!" she yelled back at him, her eyes flashing.

"Fine, lobster it is," Snape said more reasonably, smirking slightly as Hermione continued to frown at him. Snape turned to leave.

"Oh," he said, "By the way, this will be a formal dinner, so be sure to dress the part," the wizard said as he pulled open the door to the apartment.

Hermione blinked and followed him.

"Formal? As in dress up formal?" she asked him.

"No. Burlap sack formal," the wizard said snarkily, "Of course dress-up formal. I haven't had the pleasure of a nice shared meal in a very long time. So humor me."

"Fine," Hermione said as the door leading out opened.

Snape turned to her, his eyes sober.

"Again, Hermione, I must say you've done an excellent job. Thank you," he said softly.

Then suddenly he caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it, his warm mouth pressed gently against her skin. It was so . . . soft. Hermione froze as the wizard straightened.

"You are quite an extraordinary witch," Snape said, his dark eyes resting on her. Then he was gone.

Hermione must have stood there for five minutes holding her hand in the air. Finally she snapped out of it.

"He . . . he kissed my hand," she said in a fair duplication of Sybil Trelawney seer voice, "Professor Severus Snape . . . kissed my hand."

She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

* * *

Snape reappeared in the living room of his home, his mind on Hermione. He hadn't lied to the witch when he told her she was extraordinary. In fact, he found her more than extraordinary. 

Over the past few months, the Professor had developed a connection with the witch that he felt even superseded the one he felt with Lily. Although he loved Lily, he had to temper his words. She was easily upset and couldn't handle being told what he really thought about a situation. So he had to always curtail himself with the witch, always mince words and be careful how he spoke to her or she'd storm away and stay angry with him for weeks until he groveled enough to get her to speak with him again. But inversely, she could say whatever she wanted and expect him to suck it up, which he did.

It wasn't that way with Hermione. She could take the acid in his words and fling back a fair amount of her own. There had been times they were practically nose to nose arguing with each other, and the little witch never backed down or never took his comments to heart. In fact, she could be quite sarcastic herself.

And Hermione found his Potions work fascinating. There wasn't a single ingredient he used that Hermione thought horrible and sick, unlike Lily, who used to turn green when he'd describe a particularly nasty brewing. Hermione could listen about entrails and bile until the Thestrals came home.

The Professor couldn't help but think Ronald Weasley had been a very lucky wizard to have a wife like Hermione Granger, to have her love. It was going on two years since his death now. That really wasn't much time for her to finish mourning however.

Hermione's success was just an excuse to have dinner with the witch, to put his best foot forward. Snape knew he wasn't a handsome wizard by far and had almost twenty years on the witch, but he wanted to know if anything more were possible between them. He found her attractive on a number of levels. He needed to know if she found him attractive in any other manner than cerebral. Her reaction to him kissing her hand didn't tell him much. She looked to be in shock. Shock didn't necessarily mean the kiss was welcomed. But then again she didn't jerk her hand away as if he'd put a flame to it, so that was a little encouraging.

For the first time in his life, Severus Snape was considering courting a woman. A woman who was a widow, who had already found and lost the love of her life. Was Hermione capable of feeling anything for anyone else? Snape knew in his case, all he thought about for years was Lily. He never even considered any other witch.

Until now.

The wizard sat down and ran his pale hand over his face.

He hoped he wasn't about to make a fool of himself.

* * *

A/N: Aaaaaaand we're off! Snape has admitted to himself he is interested in Hermione. We don't know how Hermione feels about him though. And Rod. A Hufflepuff in Slytherin House. Lololol. I don't know where these ideas come from, but I've always hated affirmative action or quota based decisions. I guess it slipped in somehow. Lol. Anyway, thanks for reading. 


	29. Dinner at Snape's

**Chapter 28 Dinner at Snape's**

The week went by swiftly and Hermione was feeling a bit apprehensive. She hadn't seen the Potions master since the night he invited her to his home to celebrate with a formal dress-up dinner. Hermione had been to parties before and celebrations, but she didn't have much experience with meals like this. Ron wasn't particularly into sumptuous repasts though he liked to eat. Lobster was certainly sumptuous. Hermione had only had it a few times. It was quite expensive. Now she could afford it but it hadn't crossed her mind until the Professor demanded to know what her favorite food was.

Now she stood in front of her mirror naked, staring at her body. She wasn't too bad off, though perky breasts were a thing of the past as well as slender hips and thighs. Ron had liked her body just fine.

"Hermione, you're beautiful. You just have plenty of cushion for the push'in," he'd smile down at her before making love to her.

Sweet Ron.

Well, the Professor wasn't going to see her naked, though he would see her in a nice dress. Maybe she should glamour her breasts just a bit. Make them stand up a little more so the dress would fall properly. Maybe she could trim down her hips and buttocks too. Just a touch.

Hermione didn't allow herself to think exactly why she was doing this, why she was so concerned with her physical appearance, appearing more attractive. She told herself she just wanted to make a nice presentation. The witch had no idea Snape had already had a good look at her in the exercise room when she got into the Jacuzzi and thought she looked just fine as she was. He was a mature wizard after all, and appreciated a full figure although technically he'd never gotten his hands on one. The prostitutes were all curvy, enhanced little trollops, more geared to suit a wizard's fantasy rather than the reality. Hermione was the real thing.

At first, Hermione thought about transfiguring a set of robes into a Slytherin green dress, but felt that would be overkill. She settled on a nice royal blue, sleeveless and slightly form-fitting. She cast the glamour and looked at her body, spinning around and examining herself critically. Yes, her lines were a bit sleeker.

She pinned her hair up and applied a touch of make-up, then added a silk shawl that matched her dress, and a pair of low heeled royal blue shoes. Some faux sapphire earrings topped the ensemble off. She didn't know why her stomach felt so queasy. She hoped it would stop before she sat down to dinner. She wanted to be able to enjoy the lobster.

She had taken a final spin when a heavy knock sounded on her apartment door. Hermione stood there for a moment, unable to move until the knock sounded again. Taking a deep breath, Hermione headed for the door and opened it, looking up into the rather sober face of Professor Snape.

He was dressed in a nice set of black dress robes with countless buttons running down the front of it, and when the light hit it right one could see serpents embroidered in the fabric. His hair was less greasy-looking than usual, and he smelled quite nice though Hermione couldn't quite identify the spicy scent.

Snape's dark eyes washed over Hermione. She looked lovely, but rather . . . rather slimmer in some parts. Her chestnut hair was pinned up with tendrils framing her face and she wore make-up. Not too much however, which the wizard appreciated. He liked natural.

"Good evening, Hermione," the wizard said to her.

"Good evening, Professor," Hermione replied, feeling awkward.

"Are you ready for lobster?" Snape asked her.

Hermione nodded, though her stomach didn't feel any better. The wizard offered his arm.

"Come along then," he said, "Our dinner awaits."

Hermione self-consciously took the wizard's arm and he walked her through the building and out the front door, the female voice identifying them as they left.

Suddenly, Snape scooped Hermione up into his arms, the witch's arms going around his neck reflexively as he held her as if about to carry her over a threshold.

"I believe carrying you this way will be easier on both of us," the wizard purred at the surprised witch. "Locomordres!"

Hermione gripped him tighter as he lifted off, zooming toward the star-filled sky, Hermione clinging to him as they flew toward the mountain. Hermione had forgotten to put on her cloak and was cold. Instinctively, she shifted closer to Snape's warmth.

"You live on the mountain?" Hermione asked him, the wind whipping around them.

"Yes," the wizard replied, adjusting his hold on Hermione when he felt her shivering, "You forgot your cloak."

"Yes," she said, "I wasn't thinking."

"Nor was I," he said, speeding up.

Finally he landed on a ledge halfway up the mountain. All Hermione could see was a rock face. The wizard sat her down, strode up to the mountain and opened a door. Light flooded out and Snape quickly escorted the witch in.

"Welcome to my home," the wizard said as Hermione's eyes fell on a room filled from floor to ceiling with books. Some of them were extremely old.

"Your library," she breathed, "From Hogwarts."

"Yes," the wizard said, pressing a hand to Hermione's back and walking her in. "I couldn't leave my books to Hogwarts yet. Maybe after my demise."

Snape watched as Hermione walked over to the shelves and examined the titles, letting out little gasps here and there at the rarity of some of the titles. Some of the books were banned by the Ministry.

"Amazing," Hermione breathed, greatly impressed.

So, she liked his book collection. Snape mentally stored that little fact away. It could come in handy later on.

"Perhaps I will let you peruse a book or two after dinner," the wizard said to her.

Hermione turned to him, an excited glow in her eyes.

"Oh, would you, Professor?" she asked him.

Snape smirked.

"Perhaps. If you are good company at dinner," he replied.

Hermione gave him a smile. Her stomach felt much better after seeing all the books. She felt comfortable around books. It took the night back to a cerebral level, a level she could deal with.

"I'll be good company," she promised, taking his offered arm.

Snape walked her through another door, through his living room where there was a fireplace, two chairs and a couch, more shelved books and a large Slytherin crest on the wall. Then they entered the dining room.

A beautiful spread was laid out. Obviously Snape took the lead and the theme was definitely seafood. A lovely five-pound lobster with cracked tail and claws rested on a platter surrounded by small potatoes, a large bowl of clarified butter next to it, but there was also several selections of shrimp cooked in various ways, fish, steamed and fried with chips, two dozen oysters with condiments, a plate of corn on the cob and a large bowl of green salad.

A bottle of wine, a pitcher of pumpkin juice and a pitcher of what appeared to be apple juice rested on the table as well, the wine magically chilled.

"Oh, everything looks so delicious!" Hermione exclaimed as Snape pulled out the chair for her, let her sit and pushed the chair in. He walked around the table and sat down opposite her, pulling out his wand and lighting the candle centerpiece, then lowering the lights. Soft classical music rose in the background.

Hermione stared at the candlelight, listening to the soft music and suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable as the Potions master looked across the table at her, his dark eyes glittering. They sat there for a minute or two, saying nothing. There was something in his eyes . . .

The wizard drew in a deep breath. He was about to speak.

Hermione tensed.

"Well, just don't sit there, eat!" Snape snapped at Hermione, pulling the oysters toward himself. "The food's going to get cold. You can only warm seafood so many times before it gets unpalatable."

Hermione frowned at him for a second, then secretly smirked, pulling the lobster toward her. She didn't know why she felt so uncomfortable. Professor Snape certainly wasn't trying to sweep her off her feet. If he were, the gods help him. The witch relaxed and dug into the lobster tail, spearing the white succulent meat, swirling it in the butter and blissfully consuming it.

She chewed as Snape watched Hermione covertly as he prepared his oysters.

"Oh my gods, Professor, this is so good," Hermione breathed after swallowing her first forkful.

"I've never cared for lobster," the wizard replied, pausing to slurp down an oyster from its shell. No crackers here.

"No accounting for taste," Hermione replied, digging in again.

They ate in silence for a while, Hermione finishing the lobster tail then gathering shrimp, vegetables and salad on her plate. She surveyed the table.

"You know, some flowers would have been nice as well, though the candles are quite pretty. Roses. But, you don't like roses, do you Professor?" Hermione said, opening up conversation.

"No, I don't," the wizard replied tersely.

Hermione looked at him. The wizard was frowning into his plate.

"Do you mind telling me why, Professor? I mean, I know people have particular tastes, but I distinctly remember you blasting roses on several occasions. Most people just . . . ignore them," the witch said curiously.

Snape looked at her as if trying to decide whether or not to answer her. Apparently, he decided he would.

"It is quite juvenile really," the wizard said slowly, "I witnessed James Potter give Lily Evans a single red rose one afternoon, and she kissed him on the mouth for it. I've hated them ever since."

Hermione wanted to say, "Awwww" but knew it wouldn't go over that well. Still . . .

"You really cared about Lily, didn't you, Professor?" she asked him softly.

"Yes. Yes I did. I would have done anything for her," the wizard said with a sigh, "Unfortunately, she didn't feel the same about me. I thought . . . I thought no one else in the world would ever be able to understand me like Lily did. Yet, in the end . . . she didn't understand me at all. I can't fault her. I didn't understand myself."

Hermione looked at him, not wanting to pry but wanting to know.

"Has there ever been anyone else, Professor?" she inquired.

"No, Hermione. There was no room for anyone else. Lily had my heart, even after her death. My heart was full of her and rage, bitterness, the need for revenge. Even . . . even jealously," he said.

Hermione blinked.

"Jealousy? After her death? I don't understand, Professor," Hermione said, blinking at the wizard.

Snape wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked at Hermione.

"Yes, jealousy. But it wasn't toward Lily per se, but her son. Harry," the wizard said, his dark eyes reflecting the candlelight.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"Yes. Harry. Every time I looked at him, I looked at a boy who I felt by rights, should have been my son," the wizard admitted, "And it was painful. He was a constant reminder that Lily wasn't mine, no matter how I felt about her."

"Oh, Professor," Hermione said, her eyes glistening.

Snape's features sharpened.

"I don't need your pity, Hermione," he snapped at the witch, "I only needed to face reality. And I've done that, finally. I realize now that Lily was nothing more than a dream, a fantasy that I clung to, a reason for living rather than Life itself."

"That wasn't pity, Professor, it was sympathy," Hermione shot back at him, a bit angry now.

"Sympathy is just a more pleasant word for pity," he responded, putting some shrimp on his plate.

Hermione didn't say anything. Suddenly Snape looked up at her.

"And how are you dealing with the loss of your husband?" he asked her.

"I've come to terms with it," the witch said shortly.

Snape studied her.

"What does that mean, exactly?" he asked her.

"It means, he's gone on and I have to live the best I can," Hermione replied, "It's what he would want for me."

Snape nodded.

"Do you think you will ever find another love?" the wizard asked her, hoping his voice was as steady as he tried to make it.

"I . . . I really don't know, Professor," the witch replied, putting down her fork and looking at him, "When I saw Ron, he told me he didn't want me to go through life alone. That he wanted me to keep myself open to the possibility of loving someone again. He said someone else might be able to benefit from my love. I promised him I'd try to do that, though I'm not looking for anyone."

Snape nodded, poking a shrimp between his lips and chewing thoughtfully. Hermione focused on him.

"Do you think that you'll ever find love, Professor? You loved Lily for a very long time," the witch asked him.

"I don't know, Hermione. I'm not exactly out and about," the wizard replied, "There isn't a large selection of witches to court. Only you at this point."

Hermione flushed at this.

"Maybe it's time for you to return to the wizarding world, Professor. Stop hiding," she said to him softly, "Then you'll have plenty of opportunities. You're a hero and well off. Witches will go gah-gah over you."

Snape snorted and bit off a bit of potato with mild violence.

"Go gah-gah over my wealth and fame more than likely. I might as well keep paying for sex," he hissed, then suddenly his eyes widened as he realized what he said.

Hermione blinked at him.

"Paying for sex?" she repeated hollowly.

Shit. Well there was no other way to fix this than be honest.

"Hermione, I have been alone for more than two decades. Over that period, there have been times when I desired female companionship for … for carnal purposes. So I have utilized the services of Madam DeChay from time to time. As a mature adult, I hope you can understand that," the wizard said to her.

Hermione looked at the pale wizard. Stuck here, alone, hiding out from the world. Yes. Yes, she really could understand it.

Hermione nodded.

"Yes, I can imagine what it was like for you," she said to the wizard, then, "Do you . . . do you still . . . er . . .utilize Madam DeChay's services?"

"Not lately. It isn't a usual indulgence by any means. Only when . . . when it's necessary," Professor Snape said.

Hermione forced herself not to think of the wizard's body and his . . .

"What about you, Hermione? You are still a young woman. Do you ever feel . . . lonely?" the wizard asked, then hesitated, rephrasing his question. "Perhaps lonely isn't the proper word. Do you ever wish for male contact?"

Hermione colored. How had they gotten on this topic? Oh. She started it, asking if he still used Madam Dechay's services. Damn.

"No," she said.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"No?" he asked her again.

"Well, I just haven't thought about it. Ron's gone, and he's the only wizard I've ever been with," Hermione said, "I've never had . . . had casual sex. I loved Ron."

Snape nodded.

"Indeed. And I've never had anything but casual sex," he said, looking at the witch, "It's hard to fathom what you and your husband shared. I imagine however, that isn't something that can be reproduced for you with simple physical intimacy. You would require more. Perhaps, that's why you haven't thought about it."

"Perhaps," Hermione murmured, feeling out of sorts. She fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Snape perceived they had discussed this matter far enough for one night. At least he knew that she was supposed to be open to another relationship. Whether she would be or not was the question. It was rather clear she wasn't now.

"All right, enough discussion about our love lives or lack thereof," he said briskly, "Are you ready for dessert?"

"Yes," Hermione breathed, relieved they were off this topic. She hadn't meant to discuss anything so intimate with the wizard. But he had been surprisingly open. "What are we having?"

"Cheesecake," the wizard replied.

"Eli!"

* * *

A/N: Ah the first meal together. I hope I approached it right. I couldn't see Snape being obvious with Hermione at this point. He doesn't want to appear foolish and is feeling her out. I had to laugh when I imagined him yelling at her to eat rather than saying something terribly romantic. He didn't even compliment the way she looked. Lol. He's got a lot of work to do in the courting arena. Thanks for reading. 


	30. A Powerful Temptation

**Chapter 29 A Powerful Temptation**

After a small slice of cheesecake apiece, followed by coffee, Snape and Hermione retired to his study, where the wizard took a seat in the armchair and watched Hermione pull out several of his books, sit down at his desk and peruse them as if he weren't there at all.

The wizard couldn't help but notice that Hermione's shape was becoming more and more rounded each time she returned to the shelves. Not that she became fat, but her curves became more generous, more mature. She had finally removed her shawl so the wizard could see her dress clearly.

"Ah, a glamour," the wizard observed.

It was clear that Hermione's focus on the books was severely curtailing her maintenance of the glamour. By the time Snape approached her to end the night, she was back to her normal size and shape.

Snape couldn't resist taking a poke at her.

"Knowledge can be a weighty pursuit," the wizard purred at her, "But I've never seen its effects so . . . physically expressed."

Hermione looked up at him as she stood at the bookshelf reaching up to put the last title back.

"What? What are you talking about Professor?" she asked him.

In answer, the Professor let his eyes sweep over her pointedly.

Hermione looked down at herself and immediately realized her glamour was completely gone and her hips and thighs were visible in all their mature glory. Her breasts, although still large, weren't quite as perky either.

"Oh my," she breathed, looking up at the wizard, who arched an eyebrow at her.

"I definitely prefer you this way," Snape said soberly, "The reality as opposed to the illusion."

He helped her put away the book.

"Well you said for me to look nice," Hermione said.

"I meant dress nice, not alter yourself. It was unnecessary. You are equally attractive this way, perhaps even more so since I'm no young pup and appreciate a woman that looks like a woman. I imagine your husband found you attractive as you are," the wizard said, taking his cloak and placing it around Hermione shoulders, fastening it as if this were the most natural act in the world.

Hermione sighed.

"Yes, but he had to," she replied, "I was all he had."

Snape smirked as he walked her to the door.

"I very highly doubt that Mr. Weasley was under any duress when it came to you, Hermione. Now let me take you home," he said, opening the front door, walking her through and closing the door behind her.

Hermione didn't say anything as the wizard easily swept her up into his arms, but his off-handed compliment made her feel rather good. Hermione was self-conscious about her figure, especially since she had been so slender in her youth. Apparently the Professor thought she looked just fine and she had the opinion he was being honest with her.

As they flew back toward the worksite, Snape said, "You know, Hermione, there were times when I would, in the privacy of my room at Hogwarts as a student, cast little glamours on myself. Make my skin less pale, my nose slightly smaller, even make my hair less . . . lank. Everyone would like to be considered attractive and appealing. But I never went out that way. I was who I was and it was infinitely better to be as I was, then live and have to constantly maintain a lie. Women have no monopoly on this. I have always been unattractive. I've learned to live with it, accepted it and then, used it to my advantage.

"Your advantage?" Hermione asked him, fascinated to know this about the wizard. He had always seemed so confident about himself. It was hard to imagine him being insecure.

"Yes, my advantage," he reiterated, "Beautiful people are noticed more than those who are not. I was able to get away with things Lucius Malfoy couldn't. My looks and demeanor made people shy away from me, whereas he was always admired and paid attention to. I was able to serve the Dark Lord better than he in the early days. The despot had more faith in me because of this, though he was suspicious. He was always suspicious of everyone, but my unattractiveness made me valuable to him as well as my talents with potions. Because I was treated with such disdain by others, he believed I would never serve the light. Perhaps I wouldn't have if he hadn't killed Lily."

He landed and set Hermione down, his black eyes glittering as the door to the site opened.

"I thought you looked lovely tonight, Hermione. Thank you for allowing me to share my evening with you in such a manner. Good food, good drink and good company is something I've been deprived of for a very long time. I hope . . . I hope you might indulge me this way again without the need for it to be a "celebration" of sorts. It might be another eighteen months before you complete your next project. Far too long," Professor Snape said.

Hermione smiled at him, pleased to have brought the wizard some pleasure. It really hadn't been a bad night, though it got a little awkward in places, but awkward moments were to be expected when you were becoming closer to someone.

"I'd love to have a nice dinner from time to time," Hermione said to him, "Once or twice a month sounds right. Maybe we can do it on our usual Fridays."

Snape nodded.

"Yes. You having to argue with me on a full stomach might make you sluggish and give me some advantage," the wizard said with a smirk.

"It won't help you, believe me," Hermione replied with a grin. "It will only give me more energy to bash your erroneous assumptions."

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"Indeed?" he asked her.

"Indeed," Hermione said firmly.

Hermione was silhouetted in the light of the open doorway, standing before the wizard. Suddenly, she did something impulsive, but something she thought was fitting considering all the trouble the wizard went through tonight. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you for everything, Professor. Good night," Hermione said, walking into the building.

"Mrs. Hermione Weasley has entered the building," the female voice said, the door closing behind the witch. She had forgotten to give him back his cloak. That was fine.

Snape stood there, watching as the door closed, then brought one pale hand to his cheek, surprised. He hadn't expected that. The place where Hermione's lips had pressed against his skin still tingled.

Yes, that had been quite unexpected . . . but welcomed. Very welcomed.

* * *

Rod became even more of an outcast in his own house, thanks primarily to Freud. Tom was furious with the wizard. 

"Why don't you turn him to ash?" the spirit demanded.

"He doesn't have any power over me. I've made it through Hogwarts without any write-ups or incidents. I've never been taken before the Headmaster. I want to leave here with a good record. It will make up for my lack of grades when I look for a job. I'm not going to let Freud ruin that, no matter how much of an asshole he is," Rod said calmly.

Voldemort had to give Rod credit. He did have some selfishness in him as well as ambition. Too bad it wasn't for power. Since getting his wand, it seemed as if the boy's desire for respect from others diminished. It was as if he had found his own self-respect and felt how he saw himself was what really mattered.

It was absolutely frustrating.

But Rod was getting some respect, if not from the Slytherins. It was easy for those of the other houses to see that Rod just didn't fit in Slytherin house. While they weren't overtly friendly, Rod didn't go through what he used to, being buffeted about and teased. They couldn't tease him anymore anyway. He was doing good spell work in his classes now and his grades improved. He still wasn't top of the class, but he worked hard. He also exercised great restraint and presently, others saw this wasn't a weakness but a strength. Most would probably be expelled dealing with what Rod dealt with due to his own housemates.

Even the Head of Slytherin, Alistar Darke called Rod in to take him to task for not being more house-oriented.

"Mr. Dormers," the dark-haired wizard said to him, his gray eyes narrowed, "You act as if Slytherin is not your house. You do not associate with your housemates, you do nothing to garner points for our house or make others lose points. Your wand work has vastly improved, yet you don't use your talents to advance us at all. Where is your loyalty? Where is your pride? You are a Slytherin."

Rod looked at his Head of House.

"I've never felt like a Slytherin or been treated like one since I came here almost seven years ago, Professor Darke. I'm treated like dirt, still. Why should I do anything for this house when I've never been wanted? I'm here, but I've never belonged here. I have to think about myself, not Slytherin house," he said.

Professor Darke considered Rod. It was disconcerting to see how self-oriented he was, despite not being a proper Slytherin. Something must have rubbed off.

"You should feel some gratefulness, boy. Didn't we house you for all this time?" the wizard asked him.

"Professor, I remember you arguing right in front of me when I was presented to you. You didn't want me in this house. You said I was no Slytherin. As far as my housing goes, if I didn't work, I wouldn't be here. It has nothing to do with kindness or acceptance on anyone's part. I'm here because I work hard to stay here," Rod said honestly. "If anything, everyone's done what they could to make me quit. You keep me in the first year dorm. I'm about to graduate, and I've never seen the inside of another room. Year after year I'm with children. Eleven year olds. Why should I do anything for any of you?" Rod said to him, angry now.

Professor Darke didn't have a response for the boy. He had clearly been mistreated and although he never complained, he was bitter about it. The wizard couldn't blame him for not lifting a finger to aid Slytherin house in anything.

"Very well, Mr. Dormers. You are dismissed," Professor Darke said.

Rod left, letting the door slam behind him.

* * *

Tom proved his usefulness to Rod three weeks later. The spirit had told Rod about what lay on the other side when he sent him back. The darkness and the loneliness. Rod agreed to let him stay with him if he didn't constantly criticize him. There were a couple of times Rod sent him back, but finally the spirit learned to hold his tongue. It was terrible being controlled by this goodie-two-shoes Hufflepuff. But it was either Rod or outer darkness. 

Rod had gone to clean the Thestral stables, then had to prune some of the low branches on the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest. Voldemort was with him as he walked across the grounds. It was late evening, the sun sinking in the sky.

Tom was immediately aware of three other human presences. He was sensitive to such things. He divined the presences were hidden in the forest, very close to the perimeter and waiting.

"Rod, stop a moment," Voldemort said to the young wizard, who scowled. He wanted to get the pruning down and back to the castle before dark.

"Why?" he asked the spirit.

"Someone is hiding in the forest. Wait here," the spirit said, walking into the woods. He saw Freud Backerbone and two other seventh-year Slytherins with their wands drawn, waiting to ambush Rod. His time had come.

Tom returned, looking delighted.

"You are about to be ambushed, Rod. Your friend Freud and his cronies are lying in wait for you," the spirit said.

"I'd better go then," Rod said, getting ready to turn.

"Wait! Wait, Rod. Don't run away from them," Tom hissed at them.

"I'm not running. I'm avoiding them," the wizard replied.

Tom's eyes narrowed. Now was the time to make the offer he had been considering.

"Listen to me, Rod. If you fight them, and beat them, I will teach you a spell no one else knows, a very powerful spell," the spirit said.

"Yeah, I bet. Something to hurt people I suppose," Rod said.

Rod realized early on Tom was very into power and control . . . but no one was perfect.

"No. No, not this spell. Rod, you don't have a broom do you?" he asked.

"You know I don't. That's not something I could barter for," the wizard whispered, the sky darkening.

"With this spell, you wouldn't need a broom. With this spell, Rod . . . you could fly under your own power," the wizard lisped, "If you battle these boys and defeat them, I will teach it to you. No one your age can do this magic."

Rod looked very interested.

"Fly?" he asked the spirit.

"Yesssss!" Tom hissed, "I can teach you the spell, Rod. All you have to do is stand up for yourself and teach them a lesson. You can do it. Think. Think of what that ability will mean to you. There would be no limitations. You could travel anyplace by air. Now that is power, boy! Don't be a fool."

Rod looked at his friend and saw he meant what he said. He licked his lips. Fly? Without a broom? Wow, that would be fantastic. He narrowed his eyes as he looked toward the forest. Now that he was concentrating, he felt as if he could feel Freud and his friends.

"All right," Rod said, pulling out his wand, "I'll do it. But you'd better teach me, Tom, or I'll send you back into the dark for good."

Voldemort's face contorted at this threat. He didn't like it, but swallowed it down. If he could get Rod to accept this power, there was still hope he could be turned to darkness after getting a taste of what it was to be different. Special.

"I will teach you. Now go!" the specter hissed.

Rod headed for the perimeter of the forest, wand out and ready as Voldemort smiled lasciviously. He disappeared between the trees. In a moment, hexes flew, flashes of power flying between the trees, ricocheting off trunks as the point of origin moved from place to place. After about two minutes of this, there was a hoarse cry, then another, then another.

Silence followed.

Then Rod emerged, his face perspiring. He began to run toward the castle, Voldemort following.

"I've got to get someone," the boy panted, "They're hurt."

"What? You're going to get help for them?" Tom said incredulously.

"I can't just leave them there. I have to tell someone or they might die," Rod responded, picking up speed.

Die? Just what did Rod do to them? Voldemort wished he could go see, but he could only go so far from Rod's presence.

"Aren't you afraid you'll get in trouble?" Tom said to the wizard.

"Yeah, but they tried to ambush me. It was self-defense. I might get in some trouble but if I get them help, it probably won't be so bad," Rod panted.

Well that did make a twisted kind of sense. If he had meant to harm them, why would he get help for them? Rod was smart in his way, though Voldemort would have let them die.

But the spirit was sure of one thing as Rod bolted up the steps and pulled open the double doors to enter the castle. Power certainly was seductive.

Even to a Hufflepuff.

* * *

A/N: Ooh. A peck on the cheek for Snape. Some action at last!!! Rofl. I know, I know, that's not the kind of action we're looking for. Heh heh. But I'm working at it. Voldie really knows how to tempt, doesn't he? Thanks for reading. 


	31. A Hero's Dilemma

**Chapter 30 A Hero's Dilemma**

A month later, Rod and Voldemort walked with the rest of the students to the Quidditch pitch. There was to be a match between Gryffindor and Slytherin today and excitement was high. The two houses were arch rivals and the games were often quite rough. The point spread between the houses was quite close and the winner of this match would pull ahead.

Rod took a seat in the highest row, away from his housemates. Tom sat next to him, scowling. He wanted to be closer.

One of the main support beams near the Slytherin goals had been hit by lightning the night before and the wood splintered. Gronin placed a binding charm on it, but a wicked wooden spike stuck out. Since it didn't actually point directly on the field, it was deemed not to be a danger.

Not a good decision at all.

Rod watched excitedly as the game started. Rose Weasley was amazing, her thick auburn hair drawn back in a ponytail as she recovered the quaffle and made three goals in quick succession, zooming through the opposition as if they were made of water.

"Rose Weasley? Weasley?" Tom repeated as her name was announced several times.

Weasley was one of Harry Potter's blasted friends. This witch was related to him?

"Get her," Tom hissed at the Slytherins. "Stop her!"

It was as if the Slytherins heard Tom, as Rod scowled at the wizard's hissed comments. His blue eyes drifted over to Freud, who was a beater and noticed him whispering to his two goon friends.

When Rod reported Freud and the others injured, after they were retrieved he was brought into the Headmaster's office and questioned, then his wand checked. It was found that Rod had only cast the Petrificus Totalus hex, and that the resulting damage to his fellow Slytherins were rebounds of their own curses, all of which were Sectumsempra, a cutting spell created by the Half-blood Prince. This was considered dark magic and anything severed by the spell could not be reattached. Freud had lost his pinky finger. A test of the injured boys' wands showed that they had indeed cast the spells and Rod got off with a lecture on coming for aid first before dueling.

Like he would have had time for that when he was being ambushed.

Needless to say the whole of Slytherin house was pissed at him, but very impressed because not only did he defeat three very good wizards, but was completely undamaged. But Rod was tired of them all and didn't even acknowledge the witches when they purred at him. What happened spread around Hogwarts however, and now it wasn't uncommon for Rod to be greeted by students of other houses, though he still hadn't made any actual friends. It was a delicate area. He was still in Slytherin after all and technically that made him unapproachable.

"See how they all notice you?" Tom said to him, beaming. "It's because you took those three down."

"They took themselves down," Rod said, "Now teach me what you promised."

Rod showed some aptitude, but he couldn't get the full effect of anger and darkness needed to do more than hover a few feet off the ground.

"Intent! You must desire this! Desire to fly! Think about all you've suffered," Tom hissed at him. "Your fury will give you wings!"

Rod was happy he could get off the ground however.

"I just need to practice," he told the disgusted spirit.

Hufflepuffs.

Rod watched Freud talking with his friends, then they all looked in the direction of Rose. One of the wizards flew to the goalkeeper and whispered in his ear. An evil smirk crossed his face and he nodded. Then they moved into position.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle. She was up in years but could still handle a broom as well as any student.

Rose flew forward toward the goal as the goalkeeper threw the quaffle toward Freud and the other two chasers bore down on Rose at an angle.

Rod's eyes widened as he saw what was about to happen. Tom grinned broadly, his eyes flashing crimson. That Weasley was going down . . . permanently.

Freud slammed the quaffle directly into Rose, hitting her in the head as the two Slytherin chasers hit her so she flew toward the sharp spike of wood sticking out of the broken support bean. Everyone screamed.

"LOCOMORDRES!" Rod screamed, streaking from the stands at an amazing speed and grabbing Rose before she was impaled and flying the unconscious witch to safety as the stands fell silent, then went absolutely insane as he landed with her, laying her gently on the ground and calling for help.

Both teams landed, the Gryffindors charging Rod and covering him as his housemates sullenly stood around muttering.

"How did you do that?" the Gryffindors asked him as he came up for air, his hair still being ruffled as a medi-witch examined Rose, then had her taken to the infirmary.

"Just a spell I learned," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

Suddenly a tall form parted the Gryffindors and they fell back as the Head of Slytherin House scowled down at him.

"A very interesting spell, Mr. Dormers. A banned one as well. Who taught it to you?" the wizard demanded.

"Don't tell him about me, Rod. You'll get in more trouble than you know," Tom hissed at him.

Stupid boy. He had told him time and time again he must not use the spell in front of anyone. Now he goes and uses it in broad daylight in front of the whole school, and to do what? Save a fucking Gryffindor. A Weasley no less.

Rod looked up at his Headmaster and shrugged.

Professor Darke gave him a nasty smile.

"You're out of here, Mr. Dormers. The Aurors are going to want to speak to you . . . and they have ways of making you talk," the wizard said, grasping him tightly by the arm and leading him away, the stunned Gryffindors watching.

A whistle sounded.

"All right, back to the game," Madam Hooch said.

The two teams remounted their brooms and finished the match. It was an easy win since Freud and the two other teammates were taken out of the game for unnecessary roughness.

* * *

Hermione was notified and quickly went to Hogwarts to see how Rose was doing. She found her daughter sleeping with her face badly bruised and her head wrapped. Hugo was with her. He popped up when his mother entered, Hermione shaking with fear as she looked at her daughter.

"A cracked head," Madam Peabody said, "She's quite lucky. If that boy hadn't caught her, she'd be dead now. Impaled."

"Boy? What boy?" Hermione asked, taking Rose's hand and looking at Hugo.

"His name's Rod Dormers. He's a Slytherin. They arrested him, mum," Hugo said, frowning, "Because the spell he used to save Rose is banned."

"Arrested him? Oh my gods," Hermione said.

It didn't seem right for the wizard to be arrested when he saved her daughter's life.

"What spell did he use?" she asked her son.

Hugo shrugged.

"I don't know. I've never seen it before. But . . . mum, he flew!"

* * *

The Auror took the veritaserum away from Rod's mouth, his eyes narrowed as the boy relaxed. Several other stony-faced Aurors stood around him and the Minister of Magic himself was present, looking decidedly worried.

"All right now, who taught you that spell?" the Auror demanded.

Tom was present, pacing back and forth.

"Tom," Rod replied hollowly.

The Aurors looked at each other, shocked and pale. The Minister of Magic stepped forward, his eyes wide.

"Tom Riddle?" he asked Rod, his voice quavering.

"Just Tom. He's my friend," Rod answered.

He never knew Tom's last name.

"Where is he?" the Minister demanded, "Where is your friend Tom?"

Rod smiled and pointed at the spirit who stared back at him.

"He's standing right there," Rod said dreamily.

Everyone in the room looked where Rod was pointing.

"We don't see anyone. There's nobody there," the Minister said frowning.

"Yes, he's there. He's looking at me. He's mad," Rod said.

"Not the only one mad if you ask me," another Auror muttered, shaking his head.

The Minister looked at the Auror who administered the Veritaserum.

"Is there any way he can lie to us?" the Minister asked him.

"No. This potion is extremely powerful, Minister," came the reply.

The Minister straightened and wiped his jowly face with one hand.

"It's obvious the boy is mad. Send him to St. Mungos. Maybe they can find something out there," he said, exiting the room, having no idea what he was going to tell the reporters.

* * *

Hermione tried to get in to see Rod, telling the Aurors she was the mother of the witch he had saved and wanted to thank him.

"I'm sorry, Miss. But no one can see him. He's being charged with Sedition," the Auror responded.

"What? For saving my daughter?" Hermione demanded, scowling.

"No, for using a banned spell and not revealing who he learned it from," the wizard replied.

Hermione stared at the wizard, then left the Ministry, furious. She returned to Hogwarts and spoke to the Headmaster. Jonathan Wumblewort shook his head in negation.

"There's nothing we can do, Mrs. Weasley. The boy used a spell that's been banned for almost two decades. The Dark Lord's own. It's very serious," the wizard said, "And out of our hands."

"But he saved Rose!" Hermione exclaimed, "That has to count for something!"

"I'm afraid Mr. Dormer's chivalry has landed him in a hot cauldron, Mrs. Weasley. Most likely he will be sent to Azkaban for his use of that spell. It is considered as bad as an Unforgivable," the Headmaster said sadly.

Hermione blinked at him.

"Well, where are his parents? Are they getting him legal representation?" she asked the wizard, thinking she might help them retain counsel. It was the least she could do.

"Mr. Dormers is an orphan, Mrs. Weasley. He was working his way through school, earning his keep. He has no family," the Headmaster replied.

"No family? Who will provide his defense?" she demanded.

"The Ministry will appoint counsel," the Headmaster said.

A Ministry appointed counsel? That was worse then no counsel at all. Hermione rose. Whoever Rod Dormers was, he had saved her daughter. She wasn't about to let him go to Azkaban for being a hero, Slytherin or not. She said goodbye to the Headmaster then exited the school.

She needed to talk to Professor Snape.

He knew the same spell after all.

* * *

A/N: Poor Rod. He's in some deep doo now. :::shakes head::: Thanks for reading. 


	32. A Plan

**Chapter 31 A Plan**

"Eli! Eli! I need you," Hermione called the moment she entered her apartment.

The house elf winked in, looking a bit surly.

"Yes, Miss?" he asked her.

"Eli, I need to see Professor Snape immediately," she said to him.

Eli folded his arms.

"The master is in his labs. He cannot be disturbed," he said, a small, satisfied look on his face.

"But Eli, this is important. I really need to talk to him," the witch said, frowning at the elf. "Are you refusing to let him know?"

Eli shook his head.

"No Miss. There is protections. No one, not even Eli can enter the labs. You must waits until he is finished brewing," the elf said.

Hermione's face fell.

"Well, then, will you please tell him I need to see him as soon as he's finished, Eli?" she asked him.

Eli nodded curtly.

"Thank you, Eli. I know you don't like some of the things I do concerning your master, but I'm only trying to be friendly. He's been alone so long. I'm not trying to do your service. I'm really not. I could never replace you. You've been with him for years," the witch said softly.

Eli blinked up at her. Yes, he was upset with Hermione for just that reason. But now he knew for certain she wasn't trying to take over. The elf nodded soberly.

"I will tells him, Miss," he said, winking out.

Hermione sighed and paced the apartment worriedly. What was happening to Rod now?

* * *

Rod was in a guarded room in the psychiatric ward of St. Mungos. Several healers were asking him about Tom, but he wouldn't tell them anything. Tom was there, watching. Finally the healers left. Tom wasted no time coming down on him. 

"You see what you did?" the spirit hissed, "Got yourself locked up. You should have let the blasted girl meet her fate."

"I couldn't do that," Rod said, moving his lips slightly. An Auror was looking in the small window at him.

"You're going to reveal me, aren't you?" Tom said.

"No. I told you I wouldn't do that. Not purposely," the young wizard said.

"Not even to keep from going to Azkaban?" the spirit pressed.

Rod was silent a moment. He really didn't want to go to prison. But he had promised the spirit. He always tried to be a wizard of his word. He had nothing else.

"No, not even to keep from going to Azkaban," Rod said.

"What a fool," Tom thought, smiling at the boy.

The door opened again, and a short, balding wizard with white hair and a large mustache walked in and sat down next to the bed.

"My name is Ichabod Finwilly. I am your counsel appointed by the Ministry. I'm going to try and get you out of this mess, but I need your cooperation. You have to tell me who taught you that spell. It is a banned spell and dark magic connected to a wizard who was the bane of our society. Your use of it has caused a panic in the Ministry. We need to know who taught it to you," the lawyer said.

Rod looked at him.

"I only used it to save Rose. I didn't do anything wrong. She would have been killed if I didn't use it," the wizard said.

The lawyer waved his hand as if swatting away an irritating bug.

"It doesn't matter why you used it. The problem is that you had the ability to use it. Only dark wizards use that type of magic. Now we've looked at your school record, and recently you injured three students . . ." he began.

"No I didn't. They were injured by their own spells!" Rod retorted angrily. "They tried to ambush me. I would have been cut to ribbons if I didn't protect myself. And I'll tell you this, not one of them would have gone for help for me. Other than that, I've never been in trouble for anything at Hogwarts."

Finwilly stared at the boy. He wasn't cooperating at all.

"You don't understand the gravity of the situation. I'm here to help you. You have to tell me everything if you want to get out of this," the wizard said.

"But the Aurors questioned me under Veritaserum. Didn't they find out the truth?" Rod asked him.

"No. Your answers weren't . . .weren't usable," the lawyer said.

Tom hadn't told Rod that he pointed him out and no one saw him.

"Not useable? How is that possible?" Rod asked him.

"I don't know, but the healers found you of sound mind, so an insanity plea is out of the question," Finwilly said.

"Insanity plea? There's nothing wrong with me!" Rod declared.

"No there isn't. So you have to tell me the truth. Who taught you the spell?" the lawyer asked again.

Rod fell silent and looked at the wizard sullenly.

"How's Rose Weasley?" he asked the lawyer.

"I don't know. That is not our main concern, young man. You're going to do a lot of time in Azkaban if you don't cooperate. I'm not going to be able to represent you properly if I don't have the information," Finwilly said, looking exasperated.

"How long?" Rod asked him.

"At least ten years," the lawyer replied.

Hell, he'd be twenty-seven then. Still young.

"I need time to think," Rod said, trying to buy some time.

"You'll have all the time you need in wizard's prison," the lawyer replied, "You're lucky. Usually the Ministry doesn't bother with charges in matters like this. They just ship you off. You ought to be grateful they're being so merciful."

"I didn't do anything wrong. I saved a witch's life. They should take that into consideration. If I were dark, I would have let her die. It's easy to see that," Rod said.

Finwilly sighed.

This wasn't going to be easy at all.

* * *

When Snape exited the labs, Eli gave him Hermione's message. 

"All right, Eli. I will go over directly. You may tell her," the wizard said.

"Yes sir," Eli replied, winking out.

When Snape knocked on Hermione's door it was yanked open.

"Oh, thank you for coming Professor. I have a problem. Rose was almost killed today in a Quidditch match at Hogwarts between Gryffindor and Slytherin," the witch said.

Concern immediately creased the Potions master's face as he entered. Quidditch matches between those two houses could turn quite nasty. Injuries were virtually assured, though usually they consisted of broken bones.

"How is she?" he asked.

"Fine. She'll survive. She was hit with a Quaffle, then driven toward a wooden spike sticking out of one of the support posts. She was almost impaled," Hermione said to him. "Her head is cracked and her face is badly bruised but she'll be fine. But . . ."

"But what?" Severus said impatiently.

"She would have been killed if it wasn't for a boy, a Slytherin named Rod Dormers. He saved her," Hermione said.

"A Slytherin?" Snape said, his brow furrowed.

"Yes. And he's been arrested for it. You see, he flew out of the stands to save her. He flew, Professor. There's only one spell I know of that allows a wizard to fly without a broom. Locomordres," the witch said.

Snape looked at her, both brows raised. Where could the boy have learned that banned spell?

"He's going to go to Azkaban," the Potions master said, "That spell is banned by the Ministry. It's been banned for years."

"That's precisely the problem. He saved Rose. If he hadn't used that spell, she would have died. I can't let him go to prison because he saved my daughter. It wouldn't be right," Hermione said.

"He should have thought about that before he acted," Snape replied.

Hermione looked at him incredulously.

"What? Are you saying he should have let Rose die?" Hermione asked the wizard, her hands on her hips.

Oops.

"No, I'm not saying that," he said, doing his best to backpedal.

"What the hell are you saying then?" Hermione asked him.

"I'm just saying the law is firm on this. Use of Locomordres is punishable by imprisonment. There's nothing anyone can do," the Professor said.

"He needs a lawyer. He's just been arrested. They didn't send him to Azkaban yet," Hermione said to the wizard a bit hopefully.

"They're probably trying to find out who taught him the spell," Snape said.

"I want to try and help him," Hermione said to the wizard.

"Good luck," Snape said, making Hermione frown again.

"I can't believe you. Don't you think that he's being railroaded for doing what was right? Don't you think he should be helped?" Hermione said.

"He's a Slytherin. He knows every action has a reaction. He chose to do what he did and now he has to face the repercussions, Hermione. It's a part of the Slytherin philosophy. Do only what you can get away with," the Professor explained.

Hermione frowned at him.

"Fuck 'Slytherin Philosophy.' You know something, Professor? I was just starting to believe that you actually had a heart and the capacity to care about someone else other than yourself. I guess I was wrong. I came to you hoping you could give me some advice, some support, something. I should have known better. Thanks for nothing. You can leave now," Hermione said coldly, looking at him with disdain.

Snape felt his stomach clench.

"Hermione," he began.

But Hermione was completely pissed.

"Just go. I'll find a lawyer myself and get him decent representation," she said, walking to the door and holding it open imperiously.

Snape looked at her. She met his eyes coldly.

"Go," Hermione repeated.

Snape stared at her a moment, then walked through the door. He hesitated and turned to find the door slammed in his face.

Hermione hated him.

* * *

Snape returned to his home and paced his study for several minutes, thinking hard. Then he sat down and penned a letter to Bartleby, telling him the situation and to go down to the Ministry as council from Sparse Venues to take on the boy's case and find out what he could, then report back to him. He gave the solicitor all the pertinent details, saying that Sparse Venues was willing to pay for representation because he saved the daughter of one of its employees. That was perfectly acceptable if it were a good company. 

Which it was.

"Eli!" Snape bellowed.

The elf appeared. Snape held out the parchment.

"Take this directly to Bartleby and I want you to wait there until he returns and bring back whatever information he has for me," the wizard commanded.

"Yes, sir," Eli said, taking the letter and winking out.

* * *

Finwilly was still trying to get information out of Rod, when the door suddenly opened and Bartleby walked in. Finwilly stood up. 

"Er . . . excuse me. I am engaged in speaking to my client," the lawyer hemmed importantly, "Please wait until I'm finished."

Bartleby looked at the Ministry insignia on Finwilly's robes.

"What side are you working for? The client or the Ministry," the solicitor inquired.

Insulted, Finwilly turned a deep crimson.

"I take offense at that statement, sir," he blustered.

"If you took offense at that, you're going to love this," Bartleby said, then looked at the sullen boy sitting on the small cot, "Mr. Dormers, is this man your lawyer?"

Rod looked from Bartleby to Finwilly and back. He was aggravated and tired.

"No. I don't have a lawyer," he replied.

"Would you let me talk to you? I am here because of Rose's mother. She wants to help you," the solicitor said.

"Rose's mother?" the young wizard said, interested.

"Yes, Mrs. Hermione Weasley," the solicitor said.

Tom's eyes narrowed. There was only one Hermione he knew of. Harry Potter's mudblood friend. She must have married the Weasley boy. Damn. Why hadn't Rod let the girl die?

"No," Tom hissed at him, "Don't talk to him. He can't help you."

Rod flinched a bit then said, "Yes, you can talk to me. But don't ask me a lot of questions. I'm tired of questions."

Bartleby looked at Finwilly.

"I believe you were on your way out, sir," he smirked at the wizard, who shook his finger at Rod.

"You're off to Azkaban boy, believe me," he snarled, exiting the room in bad temper. He didn't have any information to give the Minister. He was going to be pissed.

Bartleby sat down, pulling the chair close to the bed and offering Rod his hand. The young wizard hesitated then took it, shaking it. Finwilly didn't do this.

"Now Rod, my name is John Bartleby and I am a solicitor for Sparse Venues. I am being paid to represent you because you saved the daughter of one of our employees and have no resources of your own. We want to get you out of this mess, but in order to do that, you're going to have to tell us how you learned the spell," the solicitor said reasonably.

Rod scowled at him.

Two hours later, Bartleby returned to his office, having done no better than Finwilly in getting any information out of the boy. He was protecting someone. Slytherins were taught not to turn others in. Apparently this boy had taken the lesson to heart. A shame really. He was going to do a lot of time because of this standard.

He quickly wrote Snape back, letting him know the boy was sullen and uncooperative. No one could represent him. He was protecting someone and basically was a lost cause. There was no way to help someone who wouldn't help himself. He sent the missive back by Eli.

Snape read the letter, then sat there for a moment . . . torn. Right now, Hermione was probably checking the directory and calling lawyers. It would be a waste of time. Not one of them had anything to compel the boy to tell the truth. It was obvious he was quite loyal to whoever taught him the spell. But who could have done it?

It was also obvious the boy wasn't all bad, because he saved a witch of a rival house . . . openly. He saved the daughter of a woman Snape found himself with growing feelings for. A woman who thought he was the scum of the earth right now. If he wanted to pursue Hermione, he would have to rectify this. He'd have to do something, something that would impress her, make her forgive him.

It was almost like Lily all over again. But Hermione was no Lily.

He thought she might be worth it.

Snape sat down again and sent instructions to Bartleby.

This time he was to contact the Minister of Magic himself.

* * *

Bartleby read the instructions, rather shocked. Was this matter really so important to the wizard? He went into hiding before this boy, this Rod Dormers was even born. Why would he risk . . ." 

Well, it was Bartleby's job to handle the wizard's business and follow his instructions to the letter. He changed his robes, warded his office and apparated to the Ministry.

There was a knock on the door.

Irritated, Minister of Magic Winslow Utterton looked up, his jowls even heavier with worry concerning this Dormers boy. He wasn't telling anyone anything and the situation was grave.

"What is it?" he snapped at the unopened door.

"There is a Mr. John Bartleby here sir, wishing to speak to you," a muffled male voice said tentatively.

"Tell him I'm involved with important matters at the moment and to make an appointment," the Minister groused. His head hurt.

There was a muffled conversation.

"Mr. Bartleby says he has information concerning the situation involving Rod Dormers, sir," the wizard said.

Winslow sat up straight.

"What are you waiting for man? Let him in!" he bellowed.

The door opened and John Bartleby entered, offering his hand to the Minister, who stood up and shook it, eyeing the solicitor.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Minister," Bartleby said, taking a seat in the cushy armchair in front of the Minister's desk.

Not in the mood for pleasantries, the Minister got right to the point.

"You have information about the Dormers boy?" he asked him.

"Actually, I have something better. Someone who wishes to question the boy. Someone who feels he can get through to him," Bartleby said.

The Minister snorted.

"He's been questioned by Aurors while under Veritaserum, healers and two lawyers. He hasn't said a word. Who do you have that can get to him?" the wizard asked Bartleby.

"He wishes to tell you himself sir. You see, he hasn't been in the public eye in some time and would like to meet with you first before meeting with the boy. When you see him, you will understand why. And I must state that he doesn't meet with anyone under any circumstances. It seems he has a vested interest in this case and has a history that might move the boy to reveal his secrets," the solicitor said, "But there will be conditions that have to be met, allowances that will have to be made."

Utterton was intrigued.

"Tell me, what kind of allowances. I would see Salazar Slytherin himself if it would help me with this situation. Panic is bound to roar through the wizarding world if the truth isn't found out. They might believe the Dark Lord has risen," he said.

Bartleby nodded and proceeded to tell the Minister what would be needed.

"Done," the wizard said, "When?"

"Tomorrow morning," Bartleby replied.

* * *

A/N: Uh oh. Getting serious. Thanks for reading. 


	33. The Meeting

**Chapter 32 The Meeting**

Snape woke early the next morning. The wizard lay in his bed looking up at the ceiling. He drew in a deep breath. The day had finally arrived. The day he had both dreaded and secretly longed for. Two decades was a long time to hide away. His hiding days were over.

The wizard rolled out of bed, bathed and dressed with care, drawing on a hooded traveling cloak. Before he left, he penned a letter to Eli with instructions to deliver it to Hermione upon his departure. His act wouldn't seem as nearly impressive if the witch had no idea of it. He was sure however that the witch would not be so pleased shortly afterwards, but he had to make sure he wasn't disturbed.

Before he left, he visited the worksite and adjusted the wards, then departed for the Ministry.

Three Aurors lounged around the back of the Ministry building, waiting to escort a mysterious visitor inside and directly to the Minister's office. One of them was Department Head Harry Potter. He wasn't thrilled about this. For all the Minister knew, his visitor could be an assassin, though why anyone would even want to assassinate Winslow Utterton would be a mystery in itself. The wizarding world was operating pretty smoothly under him.

Still an unidentified visitor with a wand was a cause for worry, but Harry had direct orders. He just wanted to be present if anything went awry.

Suddenly, there was the crack of apparition, and a tall, hooded wizard stood before them. Harry peered into the hood but could see nothing. An added glamour to hide his face no doubt.

"You are here to see the Minister," he asked suspiciously, his green eyes flicking over the visitor.

The visitor inclined his head once.

"Very well, follow me," Harry said, opening the door and walking up a back stairwell. The visitor followed, trailed by the other two Aurors who watched him suspiciously. There were to be no questions, no patting down of this person. He was just to be delivered to the Minister's office and they were to wait outside.

They walked up several flights of stairs, then Harry opened another door which opened on the corridor that led to Utterton's main office.

The Minister nervously awaited his visitor, his jowls quivering. He was hopeful and curious. On his desk lay the morning's Daily Prophet, the headline reading.

"Banned Spell Performed at Hogwarts"

Because of the ongoing investigation, the Ministry was able to curtail what was actually reported, saying it could damage the investigation. There was some information concerning an unnamed student's alleged use of a spell that had been banned for the past twenty years and that the investigation was pending. There was no mention of Rose Weasley at all.

Of course the Headmaster was being deluged with owls from parents demanding to know what the hell was going on at Hogwarts, and reporters prowled outside the main gates like wolves.

There was a knock on the door and the Minister cleared his throat, straightened in his chair and in his most commanding voice said, "Come in."

Harry entered.

"The visitor has arrived sir," Harry said as the tall, hooded wizard silently entered.

He was rather imposing, particularly since he looked like Death coming for tea.

The Minister blinked up at him for a moment as Harry hovered. The visitor half turned toward him as if to say, "Why are you still here?"

There was something very familiar in the visitor's bearing, but Harry couldn't put his finger on it.

"Er . . . you may go, Mr. Potter," the Minister said, waving his hand at the wizard.

Looking doubtful, Harry left the room, closing the door slowly.

"I don't like this," he said to the other Aurors, "Keep a close watch."

* * *

The visitor stood and looked out at the Minister from the darkened hood. 

"Er . . . please have a seat?" Utterton said, his voice quavering slightly.

The visitor stood there.

"Please ward the door and cast a silencing spell, Minister," a silken voice said from within the hood.

"Of course," Minister Utterton said, pulling out his wand and doing as his visitor asked.

The Minister was no slouch magically, and could protect himself quite well. He used this opportunity to place his wand on his desk in easy reach, just in case.

The visitor sat down in front of the Minister, and lowered his hood.

Utterton turned a frightening mottled color and began gasping with shock and amazement.

"Breathe, Minister," Snape said, his eyes glittering.

After a few seconds, Winslow drew in a deep breath like a man who just managed to keep from drowning. His eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Professor Severus Snape," he gasped, unable to believe his own eyes.

"It is easy to see why you were elected Minister. You have quite the talent for stating the obvious, sir," the Potions master said rather sarcastically.

"Yes, yes," the Minister agreed, the wizard's sarcasm going right over his head in his excitement. "Everyone . . . everyone believes you are dead."

"More proof that despite the belief of the masses, some things are not as they appear, Minister," Snape replied. "I am very much alive."

"Yes, I can see that," Utterton breathed, staring at the wizard.

They looked at each other for a minute or two, Snape fighting back the urge to tell the Minister to stop gawking at him as if he were a piece of meat.

Indeed, Utterton was thinking how wonderful it would be to announce he had discovered one of the wizarding world's greatest heroes. His popularity points would fly off the charts and he would definitely be remembered in the history books.

"The reason I have revealed myself is because of Mr. Rod Dormers, Minister. I wish to help the boy, and the Ministry," Snape said. This was a stretch of course. He wanted to help himself get back into Hermione's good graces. He couldn't very well say that.

"Why?" the Minister asked him.

"I have my reasons and I believe I can get through to him," the wizard replied.

The Minister looked at the wizard consideringly. Once Dormers saw him, the boy would probably think he came to torture the truth out of him. The Minister wasn't sure if this were indeed the case. The wizard had a rather dark, cruel caste about him, despite being a hero. His sharp eyes, hooked nose and tightly held mouth didn't exactly reek warmth and understanding.

"He's been questioned under Veritaserum, by healers and lawyers and said nothing. It's been made clear to him he will go to Azkaban and he still won't say a word," the Minister said to the wizard.

"I don't intend the question the boy," Snape said, "Instead I intend to give him information. If done correctly, he may offer up what he knows himself."

"What kind of information?" the Minister asked him.

"A lesson in History presented in a manner only one who has actually experienced it can share," the Potions master replied.

A history lesson? Good gods. Had Snape lost his wits during his long absence? But the Minister was desperate. He had to know if followers of Voldemort were out there and recruiting again.

"Very well, Mr. Snape," the Minister said, "I will give you an opportunity to talk to the boy."

Snape looked at him, his eyes narrowing.

"However, there are conditions that must be met if I am successful, Minister. Firstly, the boy will not be punished and returned to Hogwarts," the wizard said.

"What? I can't do that! There were witnesses to his use of the spell, Mr. Snape," the Minister said, shocked. "Hundreds of them."

Snape's lips curled.

"The Ministry is quite adept at covering up the most glaring situation if need be. I have several suggestions how this might be accomplished. I don't believe this Dormers boy should be punished as his use of the spell, if that is what he used, was used for good. He saved a witch's life. He should be rewarded and not punished," the Professor said.

Still the Minister looked doubtful.

"If I did that, I would be lax in my duties," he said to the wizard.

Snape decided it was time to dangle the bone.

"If you do this, Minister, I will allow you to be the one to reintroduce me publicly to the wizarding world using the story of your choice. You can claim full credit for locating me and bringing me back into the fold," the wizard purred at him. "That would secure your place in history. The man who found Severus Snape."

The Minister blinked at him. Full credit? That would be a feather in his bowler cap for sure.

"Full credit? You will back up whatever I say?" the Minister asked him.

Snape nodded.

Utterton could just see the jubilant crowds praising him for never giving up the search. His eyes glazed over for a moment.

"There is also one more condition. That I be given a special dispensation to use the Locomordres spell. It is necessary for my livelihood. It will not be used for any dark purposes, despite its origin. It is quite a useful spell," the Potions Master added.

The Minister looked at him. Yes. Yes. Allowing the Locomordres spell to be used in limited cases would ease the onus of it after this fiasco was over. It was only because the spell was associated with Voldemort that it was banned. If used to the benefit of others, it could be upgraded to acceptable use. One of the problems with the banned spell was the inability to track its use. Unlike Unforgivables, it was not magic used on another, but similar to apparition in that it was used by a wizard or witch on his or her self. Nothing was expended. There was no signature that could be identified precisely, only an increase in power, which occurred with just about any spell usage. If a person wasn't actually seen using the spell, nothing could be done.

Covering up Rod Dormers actions would be the most expedient course, otherwise besides incarcerating the boy, thousands of galleons would have to be spent trying to appease the public, the Ministry pretending to track down users of the spell, which . . . was impossible to do and would only be a Band-Aid. A true waste of taxpayer's money. Voters hated that.

"Tell me what you have in mind to hide the use of the spell, Mr. Snape," the Minister said, leaning forward.

Snape told him and the Minister smiled.

"Brilliant," he said, "Simply brilliant."

* * *

Rod was eating sausages when the door to his cell opened and a tall, hooded man entered, closing the door behind him and pulling out his wand, warding the door, blacking out the window and casting a silencing spell on it. Rod stared at the wizard for a moment. 

"Have you come to torture me?" the young wizard asked, figuring the Ministry was fed up with being nice about this.

"No, but that would probably be quicker, or at least more enjoyable for me," Snape replied lowering his hood. "You have cost me my privacy and my solitude, Mr. Dormers."

Looking at the pale, sallow-faced wizard in front of him, Rod thought that his statement pertaining to enjoying torturing him might be true. He was frightening.

"NOOOOOO!" a voice screamed out behind him.

Startled Rod turned to see Tom behind him wide-eyed, pointing a long finger at the man in front of him. Snape stared at the boy's reaction.

"No. No you're dead! You can't be here!" Voldemort snarled.

Rod turned back to Snape.

"Who are you? You look familiar," Rod said to him.

"I am Professor Severus Snape, former Potions master and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he replied.

Rod's eyes widened.

"You're supposed to be dead," he said as Tom walked around him, staring at Snape as if he had seen a ghost.

"I'm afraid rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," the wizard replied with a slight smirk, "Now this isn't about my purported death, but your life, Mr. Dormers. I have an interest in seeing you go free, an interest that is completely selfish in motivation. In other words, there is something in it for me. I think it important that you know that. I am a Slytherin after all as you are. Surely you are familiar with the concept of marked self-interest.

Rod rolled his eyes.

"And how," he agreed, "But I'm not going to tell you anything more than I've told anyone else. So if you've come to question me, you might as well leave now."

Snape blinked at him, then reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

"I don't believe in wasting my time, Mr. Dormers. I haven't come to get knowledge from you, but give you knowledge. Did you use the Locomordres spell? That is the only answer I need at this point. I will ask you nothing else," the wizard said, "After viewing this, I am sure you will be the one questioning me."

Rod looked at Snape suspiciously. He wanted him to admit what everyone already knew? Well, he didn't see the harm in that.

"Yes, I did," the boy admitted.

Snape nodded and revealed what he had in his hand. A small, sealed Pensieve.

"What's that?" Rod asked him.

"Truth, Mr. Dormers. This contains the history of the wizard who created that spell. Lord Voldemort. He taught it to me personally years ago. I think you will find it interesting," the wizard said, pulling out his wand and removing the seal.

"Don't view that!" Tom hissed desperately. "This man is a liar and a traitor. He is not to be trusted. I know him. I've known him for years. He's trying to trick you. Voldemort has nothing to do with this. I taught you that spell. Your friend. Tom," the wizard said, "Tell him you don't need to see it, Rod."

"It sounds interesting," the wizard said to the spirit.

Snape arched an eyebrow, thinking Rod was addressing him.

"'Interesting' doesn't quite describe it, my boy. Eye-opening is a better description," he replied.

"No! No! Don't view it, Rod! If you value my friendship at all, you will send this lying traitor away now! I've stuck with you through everything. Helped you get a wand, respect and given you great power! You owe me!" Tom cried.

"I don't see that it can hurt," Rod said, taking the pensieve from Snape and sticking his finger into it.

The boy fell still and Snape watched as his color slowly paled. He would be unable to extract himself from the Pensieve until he saw everything. No doubt he'd be singing a different tune.

"I killed you. Nagini killed you. I saw it. I watched you die you bastard! How is it you are here, alive? Damn it, damn you Snape. I thought . . . I thought I'd defeated you, cast you aside like a used piece of parchment," Tom hissed in despair. "But here you are, trying to ruin me again, trying to usurp my power a second time you traitorous cur!"

Snape sat there watching Rod for more than forty-five minutes. When the boy revived, the first thing he did was throw up all over the floor.

Snape expected it. He pulled no punches and hid nothing in that Pensieve. It showed the first time he met Tom Riddle, his taking of the mark and swearing of fealty, the despot transformation, his consequent torture of Snape on several occasions, his slaughter of muggles and muggle-borns, the revels and his attempted murder of the Potions master.

Snape pulled out his wand and scourgified the vomit as Rod wiped his mouth, his eyes full of horror as he focused on something to the right of Snape. He had seen Voldemort before his transformation and he looked exactly as he did now.

"You never told me who you were!" Rod cried, "You never told me you were Tom Riddle! You never told me you were Lord Voldemort. You're nothing but a bloody murderer!"

Snape stared at the boy and the empty space he addressed, his brow furrowing.

Tom stared at him, his face contorting. Then slowly, he changed into his true form at death, scaly, lipless, noseless, earless and crimson-eyed.

"Yessss! I am Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard that ever lived! I gave you what you needed, Rod. You had nothing, and would have continued to have nothing without me. With me, you could be the greatest wizard in the world, almost as powerful as I was, if you would just go for it. I could get you out of Azkaban easily, tell you how to do it. I even have the name for you. Lord Mordemordres!" the despot hissed.

Rod's face distorted as he heard the anagram.

"Lord what? That has to be the stupidest name I ever heard of! I wouldn't take that! Besides, I don't want to rule the world, and I definitely don't want to be like you! I wish I had the stone with me. I'd get rid of you for good! You're evil, Tom. Pure evil!" Rod declared.

Snape's eyes narrowed. The stone? Oh dear gods.

"Rod, you have the Resurrection Stone?" the dark wizard asked him.

Voldemort looked at Snape in horror.

"Say no! Say no!" Voldemort demanded.

"I found a black stone by the lake at Hogwarts. Or it found me rather. I collect stones so I picked it up and brought it back to school with me," the boy explained, "Then, when I was examining it . . ."

Rod told Snape everything that happened. How the creature appeared on his bed, and grew strong and changed into Tom and how he thought they were friends and what he'd done, everything.

"Harry Potter is still an idiot," Snape hissed with disgust, then stood up and pulled on his hood.

"Wait here," he said to Rod.

"Where am I going to go?" he responded as the wizard unwarded the door and left the room. Then he glared at Voldemort, who glared back at him.

"If I were flesh boy, I'd strip the flesh from your body an inch at a time," the spirit hissed.

"I bet you would you sick bastard. I can't believe I actually liked you. I'm an idiot," Rod said.

"Most Hufflepuffs are," Voldemort sneered.

"Hufflepuff? What do you mean Hufflepuff?" Rod asked him, scowling.

"You are a Hufflepuff. You show all the signs. That's why you never fit into Slytherin. You were completely unsuitable for anything but manual labor. Hufflepuffs are the least worthy witches and wizards at Hogwarts. You really are a loser, Rod Dormers, a loser from birth. You will never be anyone of worth!" Voldemort hissed.

"That's bullshit. You're the loser. I'd rather be a Hufflepuff than follow a murdering bastard like you. No wonder you're in darkness on the other side. You deserve it!" Rod snapped back at him. "And you'll be going back too. I'm giving up the stone. I don't need you anymore. I never needed you!"

Voldemort stared at Rod with hatred in his eyes as Snape and several Aurors entered the room, the Aurors carrying Rod's possessions taken from his room and examined. Among them was a box of rocks. They set everything on the bed and exited, looking at Snape curiously. The wizard waited for them to leave, then replaced the ward and silencing spell. He lowered his hood then picked up the box of stones and picked through them. He found the Resurrection Stone, then looked at it.

There were no markings on it. Just the split. He looked at Rod in askance.

"There are supposed to be designs on this stone," the wizard said, "What happened to them?"

"I covered them up so it just looked like a broken black rock. I used ink," Rod said, "I didn't want anyone to know I had it."

Snape nodded. The boy was resourceful. His act of concealment had been simple but effective. Even the Aurors ignored the stone when searching his things.

The Potions master placed the stone in the palm of his hand.

"No! NOOOO!" Voldemort cried as the wizard turned it over once.

Suddenly, Rod blinked. Tom was gone.

"Did you send him back?" Rod asked the pale wizard.

Snape shook his head as Voldemort reappeared next to him, snarling as he took an ineffectual swing at the Potions master.

"No. He's right here," Snape said with a nasty grin.

* * *

A/N: Woo hoo! Voldie is SOOOOO busted! Lol. Thanks for reading. 


	34. A Bit More Closure

**Chapter 33 A Bit More Closure**

Eli winked into the worksite the moment the master left and found Hermione dressed and ready to leave to visit Seymour Finley, a solicitor she hoped to secure to represent Rod. She was still quite angry with the Potions master and scowled when Eli delivered his parchment.

She set it on the kitchen table and left it there without reading it, then sent Eli to Bartleby to get apparition authorization. Although Snape had removed most of the wards, the apparition protections were still in force. An hour later, she was able to leave and arrived at Hogsmeade.

After discussing Rod's situation with Mr. Finley and arranging his retainer, the solicitor left his office to contact the Ministry as Hermione waited. Five minutes later, he returned.

"Ah, Mrs. Weasley, I've been told Mr. Dormers already has representation," the wizard said.

Hermione scowled.

"Ministry appointed?" she asked.

The solicitor shook his head.

"No. Mr. John Bartleby is representing him," he replied.

"John Bartleby? But he's . . . but that's . . ." she stammered, then just fell silent for a minute or two before thanking Mr. Finley for his time, then leaving his office and making a beeline for Bartleby's place of business.

Snape hadn't informed Bartleby that Hermione knew who he was, so when the witch arrived at his office and asked about his representing Rod, the solicitor tried to give her as little information as possible, despite the fact that his client was about to "come out" as it were.

"You are a company employee and I provide legal services for all employees, Mrs. Weasley. It is part of my job. You do not need to retain anyone else," the solicitor said.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. She knew Professor Snape told him to represent Rod for her. Enough of this.

"Mr. Bartleby, I am well aware Professor Severus Snape is my employer and the owner of Sparse Venues. I've known for some time now. Did he tell you to do this?" Hermione asked the solicitor, who looked flabbergasted.

She knew?

"As I said, Mrs. Weasley, it is part of my jo…" the wizard began.

"Did he tell you to represent Rod Dormers?" Hermione demanded, her chin thrust out.

Bartleby sighed.

"Yes he did. However, your Mr. Dormers would not cooperate. He wouldn't tell me anything. He is refusing to tell anyone anything," Bartleby said, "Obviously he's protecting someone."

"Oh no," Hermione breathed, "Can't anyone talk any sense to him?"

"That remains to be seen. Mr. Snape is down at the Ministry with the boy now," the solicitor replied.

Suddenly, it seemed as if the world stopped turning. Hermione stared at Bartleby as if she hadn't heard him correctly.

"Mr. Snape is where?" Hermione asked him, her face pale.

"He is down at the Ministry," Bartleby repeated.

"But why? Why did he go there?" Hermione cried.

Bartleby shook his head.

"He only said he had a personal interest in getting the young man off. I didn't understand it myself. Of course, he is going to be recognized and unable to conceal his continued existence any longer. He's given up quite a bit for this young man," the wizard said, then he looked at Hermione sharply.

"Do you have any idea why he would suddenly give up his lifestyle to try and help this young wizard, Mrs. Weasley?" Bartleby asked her.

Hermione blinked at him. The wizard was surprised to see the witch's eyes full of tears.

"Yes, I think I do," she said softly, rising and exiting the office, leaving a bewildered Bartleby looking after her.

"What kind of answer was that?" he muttered.

* * *

At first, Hermione was tempted to go down the Ministry, but realized she probably wouldn't be able to get in to see either Rod or the Professor, so she returned to the worksite. She was completely stunned and vaguely was aware of apparating and entering the building. Walking slowly, she headed down the corridor and let herself into the apartment, immediately walking into the kitchen and retrieving the letter Eli had delivered from the Professor . . . the one she had totally ignored. She removed her cloak and sat down, opening the parchment and reading it. 

_Dear Hermione,_

_After leaving you, I dispatched Bartleby to the Ministry to serve as counsel for Mr. Dormers. However, the young man would not reveal any information as to how he learned the Locomordres spell. Even the application of Veritaserum did not bring about a satisfactory answer. I have decided to speak to the boy myself since he and I share knowledge of the spell. I may be able to reach him._

_I am in his debt because by saving your daughter Rose, he inadvertently provided Sparse Venues a valuable service. You would have been out of work for months dealing with funeral arrangements and the resultant grief usually involved in losing a child. Time is money and any time an employee spends away from work is a potential loss for the company. Mr. Dormers should be rewarded for his timely rescue of the girl for that reason._

_I have made arrangements to meet with the Minister and will try to secure a deal for the boy in exchange for whatever information I manage to glean. This attempt might possibly require a few other small concessions on my part. I will let you know if I have been successful upon my return, providing that you do not slam your door in my face a second time when I present myself._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Severus Snape_

Hermione shook her head in amazement. He was helping Rod because he kept her from taking a leave of absence to mourn her daughter?

Like she really believed that.

"Professor Snape," she said softly, folding the letter and resting it against her chest, "You do have a heart after all. You just don't want anyone to suspect it pumps anything other than poison. But you're too late. Everyone knows your story. Everyone."

Hermione's eyes glistened.

Professor Snape was about to have his entire world turned upside down, and in her heart Hermione knew the only reason he was doing it was because of her. He had retained Bartleby. That had been enough of a gesture in itself. If Rod didn't cooperate, then that was the young wizard's fault. The Professor could have left it at that and it would have been fine.

But no. He went down to the Ministry to speak to the boy and expose himself. His quiet life was going to explode, absolutely explode.

And he had done it for her.

Did she mean that much to him? She was just his employee. Yes, she was skilled, but to go to such lengths to keep her happy?

Well, he did like making money and was happy with her work. More than likely he was considering revealing himself anyway.

No," Hermione thought, "This isn't my fault. Not at all."

At least, that's what she told herself.

* * *

In the infirmary, Rose awoke, her head pounding. She groaned and saw a shape leaning over her. As her eyes adjusted, the blob resolved itself into a very worried looking Hugo. 

"You're awake," he said to his sister, relief on his face, "James, Albus and Lily tried to get in to see you, but Madam Peabody wouldn't let them."

The wizard drew his chair closer to the bed and sat down.

Rose blinked at him.

"What happened?" she asked her brother, feeling the bandages wrapped around her head.

"Oh. The Slytherins tried to kill you," Hugo replied, "One of them hit you with a bludger and two others rammed into you. They tried to get you stuck on that piece of wood that was sticking out of the support beam."

"Bastards," Rose spat, "So what happened? Why didn't I die?"

"Because Odd Rod saved you, Rose. You should have seen him. He just zoomed right out of the stands and grabbed you out of the air. But they arrested him," her brother said.

Rose sat up in the bed at this bit of news, wincing.

"Arrested him? Why?" she demanded, her voice carrying.

Madam Peabody looked up from her paperwork in the office, then headed for her patient.

"Because whatever spell he used was banned," Hugo informed her, "He wasn't supposed to know it. I think mum is trying to help him."

Rose was about to reply when Madam Peabody entered the privacy curtain. She took pulled out her wand and made a precursory check on Rose's progress, then looked at Hugo.

"All right, Mr. Weasley. It's time for you to go. Your sister is going to be fine. There's nothing you can do here, so head back to Gryffindor house," she said to him sharply. If Hugo wasn't family, he wouldn't be here at all. The girl needed rest.

Hugo looked at his sister.

"I'm going to go, sis. I'll be back later," he told her, leaning and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"You'll come back tomorrow. Miss Weasley needs her rest," Madam Peabody said.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Hugo said, giving Madam Peabody a little scowl, then exiting through the curtain.

Rose lay back down and Madam Peabody examined her more thoroughly. Yes, she was recovering nicely.

"You rest, Miss Weasley. I am going to bring you a bit of gruel in a minute. We have to build you back up," the medi-witch said, exiting as Rose grimaced.

Madam Pomfrey and Madam Peabody must have used the same recipe for gruel. This incarnation of the gritty concoction tasted just as bad or even worse as when Rose's mother and father attended Hogwarts.

Rose settled back on the cot, thinking about Rod.

What kind of spell had he used to get in so much trouble? Didn't he know that he could get in trouble?

The witch lay there, trying to figure out why he would put himself in that situation for her. They weren't friends. Yes, they spoke on the rare occasion but that was about it. Still, she was grateful he saved her. She just hoped her mum could help him.

It would be terrible if Rod had to go to Azkaban.

* * *

"You traitorous bastard!" Voldemort screamed at Snape, who gave him a rather lofty look. 

"I would think that designation would also apply to you, my Lord, since you rewarded my years of dedicated service by giving me to Nagini," the dark wizard replied.

"It was necessary. I had to secure the Elder Wand," Voldemort hissed at him.

"Which you failed to do. To be precise, you've failed at everything you attempted to do, Tom," Snape said, "And in the end brought about your own demise. You were such a fool."

Voldemort purpled with rage. How dare this . . . this mere servant, address him by his given name and call him a fool to boot.

"Do not address me in such a manner!" the spirit snarled, his fists tightening.

"I will address you in whatever manner I please, you scaly bastard," Snape snapped back, his eyes narrowed.

Rod listened, spell-bound to the one-sided conversation going on before him.

"How does it feel, my Lord? How does it feel to be the one on that side of the veil instead of me?" Snape asked him.

Voldemort didn't answer him. He couldn't. He just shook with rage. Snape continued.

"You were too stupid to lead, Tom. Too fearful. You realize that if you hadn't gone after a helpless child all those years ago . . . if you hadn't slaughtered a defenseless witch that begged for mercy for that child, that you would have gone on to power, don't you? If you had even one ounce of compassion, Harry Potter would have never become as strong as he was. Never become the catalyst for your demise. All you had to do was brave your own destiny and not try to change his. Yes, you were a coward and a fool. You still are," Snape mocked him. "You brought about your own demise. Harry Potter didn't kill you. You killed yourself. If that isn't the act of a fool, I don't know what is."

"BE SILENT!" Voldemort screamed at him.

Snape considered the stone in his palm.

"Soon it is you who will be silent, my Lord, when I send you back into the dark. This time, forever. You are beaten. You were beaten before you ever began," the wizard said smugly. "Dumbledore knew it. He always knew you would fall. I am just glad I was able to play a part in your ultimate destruction. Now you are nothing, less than nothing. Even in the afterlife, you are a non-entity," Snape purred.

"Shut up, Snape! I command you to be silent! BE SILENT!" the despot cried.

"I've no more time for you, my Lord," the pale wizard said, "I've spent too much time on you already. You command nothing. You are and always have been a monarch of empty dreams and a master only of a kingdom of failure. You can go now."

"You presume to tell me when to go? I AM LORD VOLDEMORT!" the spirit screamed insanely.

"YOU ARE NOTHING!" Snape roared back at him, "And to nothing, I return you!"

"NOOOOO! NOOOOO!" the spirit screamed as Snape turned the stone over once more.

The spirit began to dissolve, screaming horribly.

"Not the dark! I don't want to go back into the dark!" the despot cried as he faded, "I'm all alone! All alone!"

"As you should be," Snape said quietly as Voldemort disappeared.

The pale wizard sat there, staring at the stone for a moment, then at Rod.

"You're not very big on intelligence, are you Mr. Dormers?" the wizard asked the boy.

Rod shook his head.

"I guess not," he replied honestly, staring at the stone in the Potions master's hand, "But he was someone, you know? He was interested in me. Said he would help me."

"In this world, Mr. Dormers, it is best if you help yourself," Snape said to him, "That way you are indebted to no one. The Dark Lord intended to live vicariously through you. Luckily, you weren't enamored by the desire for power. That is what saved you. Many wizards fell to him simply for that reason."

Snape stood up, pulled on his hood and opened the door.

"Mr. Potter, come in here," he said to Harry, who was hovering outside.

Harry stiffened at that voice and stood there, staring at the hooded wizard.

He knew who he was.

From within the hood, Snape scowled.

"I see you still can't respond to a simple instruction, Mr. Potter. Stop acting as if you've seen a basilisk and get in here, you dolt!" Snape hissed.

The Aurors behind Harry looked at each other, unable to believe the Head of their department would let anyone speak to him in this manner. Scowling, they started forward. This seemed to wake Harry up, and he held out his hand, stopping them.

"No. Just wait here," he said, walking into the room.

Snape closed the door, then lowered his hood.

"Professor," Harry breathed, taking in the pale features, the hawkish nose, narrowed black eyes and cruel mouth curled disapprovingly. Severus Snape looked just as cold and unforgiving as ever.

He found it a welcome sight.

Snape drew back a little, not liking what he saw in Harry's green eyes.

"If you try to embrace me, Mr. Potter, I guarantee you will never wrap your arms around another person," the Potions master snarled. "My regard for you hasn't increased over the years, believe me. I wouldn't have even revealed myself to you if not for this . . ."

Snape held out the stone.

Harry looked at it, his eyes widening. It looked like the Resurrection Stone, but there were no markings, only the split.

"Don't let the lack of symbols fool you, Mr. Potter. This is the stone you sent to me. It seems it found its way to Mr. Dormers here," the wizard hissed, "No doubt you tried to get rid of it with your usual finesse, or lack thereof."

"I . . . I threw it into the middle of the lake," Harry said, his voice disbelieving as he gazed at the stone. "It was supposed to be buried beneath the giant squid."

Snape made a disparaging sound.

"You idiot! You spent seven years at Hogwarts, eight if you count the extra term. You know the squid throws anything that comes in contact with it back to the shore! Mr. Dormers was on the shore when this stone was cast on it. He accidentally summoned the Dark Lord," Snape said, his eyes narrowing, "Because of your idiocy he was subjected to Tom Riddle. Because of your stupidity, he was arrested."

Harry looked at the young man sitting on the bed.

Rod was a bit star struck. Harry Potter was a real hero.

"That's all right," Rod said to Harry.

"It certainly is not all right, Mr. Dormers. Mr. Potter has been let off the hook for his actions far too many times as it is. All his life in fact. He owes you an apology," Snape snarled.

Harry blinked at the boy.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry," Harry said, meaning it.

"No problem," Rod responded, unable to believe the great Harry Potter was apologizing . . . to him. To insignificant Rod Dormers.

Snape snorted.

"I'm sorry," he mimicked, "It's been more than twenty years since I last saw you, and you still make me want to vomit, Mr. Potter. Now, go get the Minister . . . and an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries. We need to dispose of this stone for good."

Chastened, Harry looked at the wizard, who drew his hood back on. The Auror silently left the room, closing the door behind him.

Snape turned to Rod.

"I imagine you will be released soon, Mr. Dormers. You are quite fortunate," the Potions master said.

"I'm realizing that," Rod replied, "Thank you sir."

Snape scowled.

"Don't thank me, Mr. Dormers. As I told you, I have my own motives for assisting you. Thank the mother of the witch you saved. If not for her, you would have rot in Azkaban for the rest of your life for being so foolish as to associate with a magical being you knew next to nothing about. There aren't many second chances given in life, boy. Next time, you may not be so lucky."

Snape sat down to wait for the Minister and the Department of Mysteries representative, his face slightly contorted.

One problem solved. Most likely that one solution was going to lead to a world of other problems for the wizard.

Well, he was in for it now.

* * *

A/N: Wow, Snape was harsh as hell to Harry, wasn't he? He tormented Voldie too before sending him back. It could have been a longer scene, but I think Snape's dismissal of the wizard was something that caused Tom more anguish than a continuing banter back and forth. Thanks for reading. 


	35. The Return

**Chapter 34 The Return**

Minister Utterton was amazed at the story behind Rod and the Resurrection Stone, which was immediately claimed by an unnamed wizard from the Department of Mysteries, taken to a hidden storage facility, sealed and stored away among the thousands of other magical objects being protected by those clandestine and dedicated individuals. The Department of Mysteries was the wizarding world's equivalent of the United States' Area 51.

Headmaster Wumblewort was contacted and arrived at the Ministry to be debriefed. An acceptable cover story had been created to conceal Rod's use of the Locomordres spell and a prepared statement given to the Daily Prophet for immediate publication.

* * *

**_Hogwarts' Student Displays Recessive Talent Not Dark Magic_**

_In answer to a disturbing rumor originating at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minister of Magic Winslow Utterton has disclosed there was an ongoing investigation of an incident that at first appeared to involve the use of a banned spell created by Lord Voldemort, a despot destroyed by Harry Potter over twenty years ago._

_A seventh-year student, Rod Dormers apparently flew out of the stands to save a Quidditch player from impalement. After questioning and a careful examination by specialists, it was determined Mr. Dormers did not use a spell, but inadvertently called forth an ability that usually registers in young witches and wizards between five and eleven years of age._

_This ability is called the "Float Effect" and is one of the most common ways to identify magic in children. Young witches and wizards can jump from elevated areas and slow the body's descent so that they seem to be flying when in fact it is a directed fall with a lessened impact. Mr. Dormers was seated in the highest, closest seat to the stricken player and leaped out of the seat as a reflex, caught the player and simply floated to earth._

_It is rare that this ability is displayed in students past puberty, but not unheard of. Mr. Dormers had been returned to Hogwarts and all charges against him have been dropped._

* * *

"That will take care of it nicely," the Minister said to the Headmaster, relieved.

Wumblewort, who had not been told anything about Professor Snape or the Resurrection Stone was also relieved. This was a plausible explanation. He had heard that the boy claimed it was a spell, but he was probably exaggerating like all young wizards did.

"Come along, Mr. Dormers," Wumblewort said to the boy, "You have a couple of awards to accept."

Rod looked at him with wide eyes.

"Awards?" Rod asked the Headmaster as they left the Ministry building.

"Of course. You will receive a medal and house points for saving Miss Weasley in a ceremony in front of the entire school," the Headmaster said, "There have also been some changes in your sleeping arrangements. You will have a private room until graduation. Your grounds duties have also been suspended indefinitely. Saving the life of a fellow student is sufficient service to tide you over until the end of the year, Mr. Dormers. We are in your debt."

Rod looked ahead soberly, not responding to the wonderful news. The Headmaster looked at the boy, his brow furrowed.

"Don't you find this appealing, Mr. Dormers?" he asked him.

"Oh. Oh yes sir. I do. I really do. It's just that . . ." Rod began, then faltered.

"Just what, my boy?" Wumblewort pressed.

"I'd really like something else, if it's not too much trouble, sir," the boy ventured.

The Headmaster scowled a bit. Rod was already getting quite a bit here. But the boy was a Slytherin after all.

"What, Mr. Dormers?" the Headmaster replied, frowning.

"I'd like to be sorted. I'd like to know for certain what house I belong in, sir. I've never felt like I belonged in Slytherin," Rod said, looking at him hopefully.

Wumblewort studied him for a moment, then said, "I believe that can be arranged, Mr. Dormers."

Rod smiled.

Maybe he'd even be able to spend his final months in his proper house. That would be fantastic.

* * *

Professor Snape listened as the Minister hashed out his plans for his "presentation to the Public." First he planned to drum up excitement by announcing he would be making a very important announcement in two days, one that would change the course of history.

Snape rolled his eyes at this, but listened as the Minister fanned his hands, imagining the set-up.

"All the most important and influential wizards and witches will be on stage, also in the dark as to what I'll be announcing. You will be there, hooded of course, waiting in the wings discreetly. I will then give a speech explaining how I spent years and my own private funds seeking you out, etc, etc. Then I will announce you and you will join me onstage, and reveal yourself as I say:

"I present to you, one of the wizarding world's greatest heroes, Professor Severus Snape! Welcome back, Professor!"

The Minister paused for the imaginary screaming crowd to calm down.

"Then you will give a speech addressing your public and thanking me for persuading you to rejoin society, being sure to add if not for me you would still be in hiding. Make that very clear, Professor," the wizard said, smiling.

"I intend to make several things clear, Minister," Snape said, rising.

"Fine. Then we will take a few photographs together. I will expect you here two days from now at nine-thirty in the morning, Professor Snape. That will give us half an hour before I make the announcement at ten," Wumblewort instructed as Snape pulled on his hood.

"I will be there," Snape said.

The Minister watched as the dark wizard exited his office and rubbed his hands together gleefully.

This was going to be absolutely wonderful. His re-election was virtually assured. Imagine, him finding Professor Severus Snape. He'd have to have Harry there too. The Auror would have to act surprised. Oh the photo opportunities were endless.

When this was over, Snape might be the wizard of the hour, but the Minister was going to remain in office for years behind this.

* * *

Snape disapparated home and immediately Eli appeared with a shot of Firewhiskey for the wizard, who removed his cloak, hung it up and sat down heavily in his armchair, chucking the drink down and handing the glass back to Eli, who looked up at him.

"The Miss has asks for you constantly, Master," the elf said.

Snape sighed.

:"Tell her the boy has been returned to Hogwarts and I will talk to her tomorrow," the wizard said.

Snape was exhausted. It was only about five in the evening, but the day had been draining for him. He wasn't ready to face Hermione yet. Still, she should be glad Rod was returned to the school.

"Yes, Master," Eli replied, winking out.

* * *

"Tomorrow? Why tomorrow?" Hermione demanded of the elf, who shrugged.

"I thinks he is very tired, Miss," Eli replied.

Hermione scowled for a moment, then she sighed. He probably was tired. She was just dying to know what happened however. She looked at Eli.

"Can't you take me to him?" she asked the elf, who shook his head.

"No, Miss. Only the master can deliver you to his home. It is protection," the elf said.

Hermione sighed. Oh well, she'd just have to wait until tomorrow. She decided instead to go back to Hogwarts and check on Rose.

* * *

Rod returned to Hogwarts at suppertime and caused quite a stir when he entered the Great Hall. The Gryffindors all applauded him as did every other table with the exception of Slytherin. He had cost them the game by saving Rose and each of his housemates scowled at him.

Rod turned very red at the unaccustomed welcome and quietly sat down to eat. If he had known all of this was going to go on, he would've gone straight to Slytherin house, but he was hungry. He was aware of people watching him and whispering as he ate, but no one approached him. As he tackled dessert, a treacle pudding, Headmaster Wumblewort stood up and tapped a glass, getting everyone's attention.

"Tomorrow afternoon's classes will be postponed in order for everyone to attend Mr. Rod Dormer's award ceremony and Sorting," the wizard announced.

"Sorting?" everyone mouthed to each other. Wasn't Rod a Slytherin? Why was there to be a Sorting?

Professor Darke scowled. If Rod were resorted, then Slytherin house wouldn't get the points he was to be awarded. They needed them in order to get back in the running for the House Cup.

When the Headmaster reseated himself, Professor Darke walked up the dais and took a seat to his right.

"Headmaster, I don't see the necessity to sort Mr. Dormers now. He's been in Slytherin for years and only has a few months left before graduation," the wizard said.

"He requested it, Alistar. He said he never felt as if he belonged in Slytherin and I can't blame him for wanting to know where he truly fits in," John replied.

"What if he is resorted?" the Head of House asked the Headmaster.

"Then he will reside in his proper house until the end of the year and graduate with them," the Headmaster replied.

"It hardly seems fair that the points he earned while in Slytherin house will be applied to another," Darke muttered.

Wumblewort scowled at the teacher.

"And that is your only concern? That your house doesn't receive points?" he asked the wizard.

"The boy has always been ungrateful, Headmaster," the wizard responded bad-naturedly.

"If you think about it, he hasn't had much to be grateful for, Alistar. He worked for everything he had, which wasn't much. See what a difference just a proper wand made for him? I think, I think we need to re-examine our treatment of poor students here at Hogwarts. I really think if Mr. Dormers had an easier time of it, he might have been an exemplary student rather than an average one. There has to be a better way," Wumblewort said thoughtfully.

Professor Darke said nothing. He simply returned to his seat and finished his supper.

Rod ate his dessert as slowly as possible, waiting for the majority of the students to exit the Great Hall before he did. Hugo also lingered. He wanted to talk to Rod. When he stood up, the fourth year did also and followed him out the door.

"Rod!" he called, hurrying up to him.

Rod turned, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the red-haired Gryffindor. He didn't know who Hugo was. Hugo stuck out his hand.

"Hi. I'm Rose's brother, Hugo," the wizard said.

Rod relaxed. Other students who had been loitering about watched them closely.

Rod shook his hand.

"How's your sister?" he asked Hugo.

"She's pretty bruised by the bludger and her head's all wrapped up, but she's awake," Hugo said, "Thanks for saving her."

Rod shrugged.

"It's all right. I couldn't let that idiot Freud kill one of the best chasers Hogwarts has. She could probably go professional," Rod said to Hugo, who nodded.

"I tell her that all the time," Hugo said, beginning to walk with the wizard, "Are you going to go see her?"

Rod looked a bit startled.

"I . . . I didn't think about it," he replied.

"I think you should. I'm sure she wants to say thanks, and she was worried when I told her you had been arrested. It would probably make her feel better to know you were back and not in Azkaban," Hugo said, smiling.

Rod hesitated. His saving Rose had been reactive, something he just did on the spur of the moment. But actually going up to see her? His stomach started to hurt a little.

"I don't know," he said doubtfully.

Hugo could see the nervousness in the older wizard's eyes.

"I'll walk you up. Old Peabody won't let me in, but I'm sure she'll let you in, since you saved Rose," the boy said, turning toward the main stairwell, "Come on, Rod."

Rod watched Hugo take a few steps toward the stairs, then turn and look at him, smiling.

"Come on," he said encouragingly.

Rod shrugged and joined him. They headed up the stairs, watched by the other students, who had hung back.

"Odd Rod's not a bad sort is he?" said one Gryffindor girl to another.

"No, but he's still a Slytherin," the other girl replied.

"Maybe he isn't. Maybe that's why they're going to sort him again. Wouldn't it be cool if he were a Gryffindor?"

Her companion shook her head.

"We'd have so much work to do breaking him out of all that Slytherinishness," she answered.

They both headed for Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

Rod pushed open the infirmary doors and entered, stopping a few steps in.

"Hello? Madam Peabody?" he called.

The short, sharp featured medi-witch walked out of her office, scowling slightly.

"May I help you?" she asked, looking him over for possible ailments.

"Hi. Er . . . yes. My name is Rod Dormers. I'd like to see Rose Weasley if I could," he said, his voice wavering as the witch eyed him.

"Dormers. Dormers. Oh, you are the young man who saved her. Glad to see you back, Mr. Dormers. I felt it highly unfair you were arrested in the first place. Yes, you may see her for a few minutes. Follow me," the medi-witch said, walking briskly to a black privacy curtain and pulling it back a few inches, sticking her head in.

Rose was awake, staring up at the ceiling, half a bowl of uneaten gruel on the table beside her.

"Miss Weasley, are you up for a visitor?" Madam Peabody inquired as Rod waited nervously behind her. He half hoped Rose would say no.

"Sure," Rose replied, sitting up.

Madam Peabody smiled and turned to Rod.

"You may go in, Mr. Dormers," she said to the wizard.

"Thanks," Rod said, taking a deep breath and walking into the enclosure.

Rose and Rod stared at each other for a moment, the wizard's eyes resting on the bandage around her head and the bruises on her face. Freud was a real asshole.

"Hi Rod," Rose said softly.

"Hi," he said softly, feeling as if his tongue was tied in knots.

They were quiet for a few more seconds.

"How . . . how do you feel?" he ventured.

"Better than I did earlier. My head doesn't hurt as much now," Rose replied, "Thanks for saving me."

Rod nodded.

"No problem," he said shortly, his blue eyes shifting about nervously.

"He's very shy," Rose thought as she looked at the Slytherin.

"I hope you didn't get in a lot of trouble," she said.

"No. Not too much," he replied, "But I'm not supposed to talk about it."

Rose nodded.

"They're like that at the Ministry. My dad used to work there. They tried to keep everything a secret. But I'm glad you didn't go to Azkaban," Rose said.

"Me too," Rod replied.

Suddenly, Rose's stomach let out a terrible growl. Rod blinked at her.

"Oh, excuse me. I'm kind of hungry. All Madam Peabody gave me was gruel. It's disgusting. I couldn't eat it all," the witch said.

Rod looked at the hardened bowl of gruel. He'd had it before. It was pretty nasty. Suddenly he reached inside his robe and pulled out something wrapped in a napkin. He stepped closer and offered it to Rose.

"Here. I took two pumpkin pasties from the Great Hall for later. You can have them. Anything's better than gruel," he said.

Rose took the napkin from him gratefully and hid it under her pillow.

"Thanks Rod," she said to him, smiling.

He gave her a half smile back.

"You're welcome," he said, feeling a little more comfortable now.

But it was short-lived as the curtain was pulled back and Hermione entered.

"Mum!" Rose exclaimed as the witch walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Hi, Rose. Feeling better?" Hermione asked her daughter.

"Much. Mum, this is Rod. He's the wizard who saved me from getting killed," Rose said by way of introduction.

Rod turned a deep red as Hermione turned to look at him. He was taller than she was, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, with a smattering of acne over his face. He was not a bad looking young wizard however.

"Hello Rod. Thank you so much for saving my daughter," Hermione said warmly, walking over to the boy and embracing him.

Rod was shocked. He had never been hugged by anyone, much less someone's mum.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Weasley," he said, stiffening and turning even redder.

Hermione released him and smirked at his embarrassment.

"I hope they didn't give you too hard a time down at the Ministry," the witch said to him, her eyes full of curiosity.

"Not too hard. Thanks for helping me," he replied.

"It was the least I could do," Hermione said, still smiling at the wizard, who ran his finger around his collar as both mother and daughter smiled at him. He wasn't used to all this gratefulness. It was time to go.

"Um . . . I'm going to go now Rose. I just wanted to see if you were all right," he said to her.

"Ok, Rod. I'll see you when I get out," Rose replied.

Rod blinked at her. See him? Did she mean just see him in the halls or did she mean see him and talk to him? He didn't know.

"All right. Goodbye, Mrs. Weasley," he said, then turned and fought with the privacy curtain a bit before hurrying out.

"My, he certainly is shy," Hermione said, turning back to Rose.

"I don't think he's used to dealing with people, mum. He's always by himself," she said, "He's kind of an outcast. What he did surprised everyone."

Hermione pulled up a chair and sat down in it, thinking about the Professor . . . how much of an outcast he appeared to be, but also how heroic and courageous he was when the brooms were down.

"You'd be surprised what supposed outcasts are capable of, Rose," she replied softly.

* * *

A/N: I was really enthralled by Lily Potter's ability to apparently fly as a child, when in reality it was more like she could extend a jump and float to the ground rather than fly. It was never mentioned as something grown wizard and witches could do, so I used this "Float Effect" (with a bit of creative license) to get Rod off the hook. Thanks for reading. 


	36. Two Shocking Developments

**Chapter 35 Two Shocking Developments**

The next morning, Hermione awoke and headed for the exercise room. Since her foray through the area with Professor Snape, she had taken to either going for a morning walk or walking on the treadmill to increase her stamina. It also tightened up the rather loose places on her hips and thighs, though she was still thick.

Dressed in a loose cotton sweat suit with trainers, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a towel wrapped around her neck, she entered the room to find Professor Snape, dressed in a black t-shirt, sweatpants and trainers, jogging on one of the treadmills. His hair was stuck to his head and there was perspiration down his back. Apparently he had been at it for some time. Probably working off some stress.

She walked up to him.

"Good morning, Professor," she said to the wizard, who slowed to a walk, picking up the towel off the bar and wiping his face with it. He was breathing a bit heavily.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said, looking at her critically as he walked. "You aren't dressed for your strenuous morning dip in the Jacuzzi."

"No, I'm not. I'm doing the treadmill this morning," she said loftily, ignoring the sarcasm in his voice.

But Hermione didn't feel lofty. She was curious as hell as to what happened yesterday and why the wizard did what he did. But she played it cool as she rested the towel on the handle of the closest treadmill, adjusted the setting and got on, beginning to walk and matching the wizard's pace.

After a minute or two of silence, Hermione said, "I met Rod yesterday at Hogwarts. He seems like a nice boy."

"He's an idiot," Snape replied.

Hermione scowled.

"Well, idiot or not, he saved Rose. Thank you for getting him off. I saw the article in the Prophet. I don't believe it for a minute," the witch said.

The Professor didn't reply at first, then said, "There's no need to thank me, Hermione. As I said in the letter, he did me a service by saving your daughter."

Hermione harrumphed.

"Professor, there was no reason for you to go down to the Ministry and reveal yourself. Sending Bartleby was more than enough," she said to the wizard, who stopped walking.

"You said you wanted the boy helped," he said to the witch, frowning, "I presumed that meant you wanted him to be freed."

Hermione blinked at him.

"Well, I did," she said.

Snape began to walk again.

"He wasn't cooperating with Bartleby. He needed to talk to someone who he had something in common with," the Potions master said.

Hermione frowned at him. That boy had nothing in common with the Professor as far as she could see, except maybe that he was in Slytherin house. She was pretty sure that John Bartleby was a Slytherin too. He seemed like the type.

"What, being a Slytherin?" she asked the wizard.

"No," Snape replied, "Being familiar with Lord Voldemort."

Hermione stopped walking.

"What? Voldemort was dead before Rod was even born! How could he know anything about the Dark Lord?" she demanded.

"It seems your friend Mr. Potter acted with his usual deplorable idiocy and inadvertently provided Mr. Dormer with access to the Resurrection Stone, which he then used to summon the spirit of the Dark Lord," the Potions master said.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed.

Snape patiently explained, peppered with a number of disparaging remarks about Harry's brain capacity, how Harry threw the stone into the lake at the Giant Squid which then knocked it to the shore were Rod was standing and how the boy used it to summon the Dark Lord.

"But he didn't even know the Dark Lord. How could he summon him?" Hermione asked.

Snape looked thoughtful.

"I considered that. Mr. Dormers has had a less than stellar run at Hogwarts. He was an orphan, arbitrarily placed in Slytherin house without being sorted there, didn't have a proper wand and had to work menial jobs to keep his place at the school. With poor grades, poor spell work and no friends to speak of, Mr. Dormers was treated with very little respect by his peers. He had no power. He had no one person he wanted to see. His deepest desire must have been for the acquisition of power and respect. When he turned the stone, Voldemort appeared in a very weakened state, a state that physically represented Rod's own state of power. His sympathetic nature strengthened Voldemort and they became 'friends' with Voldemort helping him to acquire a wand and promising to show him how to gain respect," the wizard said as Hermione covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh my gods," she breathed, "He was influencing Rod wasn't he?"

Snape smirked slightly.

"He tried to, but luckily Mr. Dormers had his own mind concerning what he would and wouldn't do to get respect. I believe the bottom line was the boy needed to respect himself more than have others respect him. He was happy with simple improvements and needed no more, though he did succumb to dueling three other Slytherins in order to learn the Locomordres spell. Which was quite fortunate for your daughter," the Potions master said.

"So how did you get him to talk?" Hermione asked the wizard.

"I gave him a Pensieve of the Dark Lord's history. He viewed it from my standpoint and I added 'highlights.'"

Hermione paled slightly as she imagined what the Professor's idea of highlights must have been.

"Once he knew who his 'friend' really was, he terminated the friendship and told me everything," the wizard said.

"What happened to the Resurrection Stone?" Hermione asked.

"Given to the Unspeakables. It is safe," Snape replied.

Hermione fell silent, looking at the wizard . . . staring at him in fact.

Snape, who was still walking slowed and frowned at her.

"What?" he asked the witch.

"Now they know you're alive, Professor. What's going to happen now?" she asked him quietly.

"I am to be subjected to a 'Public Coming Out' tomorrow. A large stage will be erected and dignitaries invited. Then, at the proper time, the Minister will give a speech on how he tirelessly looked for someone all these years and was finally successful. Then he will introduce me, I will give him all praise due him, then give a speech," the Potions master said, looking as if he had bitten into something quite nasty.

"This is all my fault," Hermione said contritely.

The Potions master stopped walking.

"No, this is not your fault, Hermione," he said softly, his dark eyes resting on her.

Hermione met his eyes.

"No?" she responded, just as softly.

"No," he replied, "Actually, I blame your children."

"What?" Hermione yelled at him. "My children? How can you blame my children for this?"

"Easily," he said, stepping off the treadmill and wiping off his face and neck, smirking slightly as Hermione picked up her pace, clearly pissed off at his statement. "Your son climbing up that mountain and almost breaking his neck caused me to reveal myself to you, and your daughter ripping about the Quidditch pitch and nearly getting herself murdered for being a good player had the result of me having to speak to Mr. Dormer personally in order to keep him out of Azkaban. So you see, they are the catalysts that sparked me exposing myself in both instances. I am not surprised however, considering their parentage. Children with the surnames of Weasley, Granger as well as Potter gave me no end of grief long before their progeny were conceived. History is wont to repeat itself given enough time. I simply have a twenty-year cycle."

Hermione stopped walking and stared at the wizard for a moment before bursting out in hysterical laughter, tears rolling down her face as the Professor looked at her soberly.

"I'm glad to know someone thinks this funny," he said.

Hermione straightened with an effort, wiping at her eyes and getting her laughter under control.

"It's . . . it's not that it's funny, Professor. I'm . . . I'm just amazed at the lengths you'll go to in order to try and hide the fact that you genuinely care about people," the witch said, "I know that you went down to the Ministry to help Rod because I wanted you to. I don't care what you wrote in that letter. Just as I know you saved Hugo because he was in danger, not to keep me from taking a leave to arrange his funeral. You are a decent wizard, Severus Snape, and you can't hide that from me," she said to him, sobering.

The wizard couldn't help but wonder how 'decent' Hermione would think he was if she knew he had designs on a woman who was still in mourning for her husband. If she knew he was interested in her in a way not remotely related to a working relationship.

"Don't presume to know how 'decent' a man I am, Hermione," he said to her silkily, "You may find out just how wrong you are. I do nothing without a reason. Nothing."

"What possible reason could you have for helping Rod other than to help me?" she asked the wizard.

Snape looked at her, his heart beginning to pound and his palms becoming just a tad wet. Again, this was like Lily all over again, the wizard finding himself in a position to make his feelings known. But with Lily, he would always falter, always let the moment pass, afraid of rejection.

He wouldn't let it happen like that again.

"This reason, Hermione," the wizard said quietly, stepping up to the treadmill, leaning slightly and kissing the witch softly and rather quickly on the mouth. He pulled back, his dark eyes searching her face for a moment, then strode out of the exercise room without a word, leaving a shocked Hermione staring after him.

The door closed behind him and Hermione reflexively brought her hand to her mouth where his lips had touched hers. She began to shake.

Dear gods. She'd just been kissed by Severus Snape.

* * *

Students and teachers were all gathered in the Great Hall for Rod's Award Ceremony. Rod sat on the dais nervously in his best dress robes, his hair neatly combed and palms sweating. He didn't have on a House tie. Four of them rested on a small table to the right. He would select the proper one after being sorted. 

A stool was set up in the center of the dais, the ratty old Sorting Hat resting on it. Rod could hardly hear what the Headmaster was saying, the blood was pounding in his ears so hard. Everyone's eyes were on him. He had never been scrutinized like this in his life. It was as if everyone in the world were judging him. He knew he was supposed to be receiving honors for his deed, but he felt more as if he were heading for the gallows. What house would he be sorted into.

Both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were also hoping Rod would be sorted in. He had been awarded two hundred points for saving Rose, who was sitting in the front row, her head still bandaged, Madam Peabody scowling next to her. The medi-witch didn't want her to attend the ceremony, but Rose protested so much it became detrimental, so the witch brought her down.

"The moment it's over, back you go, Miss Weasley," the witch groused as they entered the Great Hall.

Rod was vaguely aware of being pushed from behind. He half turned and saw Hagrid poking him with a huge finger.

"Get up thar," the gray-haired half-giant hissed.

Rod looked to see the Headmaster holding up a golden medal on a ribbon, and hurried from the chair, stumbling a bit as he almost ran across the dais. A few snickers rose from the audience d as he stopped in front of Wumblewort, who frowned at him slightly before placing the medal over his head.

"I present you with the Hogwarts Medal of Incomparable Service," the wizard intoned, "For saving the life of a fellow student.".

"Thank you, sir," Rod mumbled as applause broke out.

He looked toward Rose, who was clapping and giving him a bright smile. He felt a bit heartened as he looked at her. Hugo stood up on the bench and whistled loudly before his housemates pulled him down.

"Go Rod! Yeah!" he yelled, smiling broadly and continuing to clap.

Those seated at the Slytherin table clapped half-heartedly. It was bad enough Rod had cost them the last Quidditch game, but now he was going to give the points he received to another house. Talk about insult to injury.

"Now," said Wumblewort importantly, "We come to the most interesting part of this ceremony. The Sorting of Rod Dolmer Dormers. Many of you were not aware that Mr. Dormers entered Hogwarts as a part of a program for students without resources and was never actually sorted into a house. Each house is required to accept said students to keep the distribution fair. Slytherin accepted Mr. Dormers. Yet, he has requested this Sorting to find out which house he would have been placed in if he had the opportunity."

The Headmaster lifted the Sorting Hat off of the stool.

"Please take a seat, Mr. Dormers," he said to the boy.

Rod sat down, his eyes turning upwards as the wizard held the dirty old hat over his head. He looked inside the dark hollow before it was lowered on his head. The entire Hall was silent. It was as if everyone were holding their breath as the Hat came to life twitching. Rod could hear it talking to itself.

"Hm. You're a hard worker, but only when it is of benefit to you in some way. You aren't dumb, indeed you have a quick mind, able of reasoning logically when required. You are courageous, but will only extend that courage after careful consideration. You do not rush into anything. You are also quite secretive and will not reveal anything that you deem detrimental to your own advancement. You are motivated by your own needs, and do what you must do to accomplish your goals despite the opinions of others . . . therefore …you belong in . . .

"Slytherin!" the Hat shouted.

This proclamation was met with stunned silence. Then the Slytherin table went wild.

Rod Dolmer Dormers was a Slytherin after all.

* * *

A/N: Whoa. Lol. An unexpected kiss and an unexpected Sorting. Thanks for reading. 


	37. The Presentation of Severus Snape

**Chapter 36 The Presentation of Severus Snape**

Snape disapparated back to his house, immediately striding into his bedroom, stripping down and jumping into the shower, turning on the cold water full blast and letting it stream over his head, one hand pressed against the wall as he leaned beneath the spray.

"What the hell did I just do?" he said to himself as the water flowed over him.

Damn. By acting so impulsively, he might just have ruined everything. But he hadn't wanted to make the same mistake with Hermione that he had with Lily. He never let Lily know he wanted her. But to just . . . just kiss the witch? With no indication that was what he intended . . . without, without permission?

"Whoever said with age comes wisdom was a damned liar," the wizard hissed, spinning and letting the water run over his back and buttocks.

What must the witch think of him? Dear gods, he hoped she didn't quit. Despite the fact that he was interested in her, she was a damn good employee. How the hell was he going to fix this?

Well, the best thing to do for now was to lay low and concentrate on his speech for tomorrow. After he faced the public, maybe Hermione would be easier.

* * *

Hermione was also in the shower, bathing her body absently as she thought about the Professor kissing her.

Kissing her. The Professor. The most reserved wizard she knew.

"This is the reason, Hermione," he had said.

Dear gods. He must want . . . oh gods no. He couldn't. Not Professor Snape.

Hermione turned under the spray, washing herself off, feeling confused but strangely excited.

Professor Snape was a brilliant, successful man. And a hero. He could hold an intelligent conversation. He could brew potions others only dreamed of. He was rich. Established.

And he had a cock as big as a hippogriff's.

Merlin.

Hermione shuddered.

"What am I going to do?" she groaned to herself as she shut off the water and exited the shower, picking up a towel to dry herself off.

Well for now, she'd just do what she normally did when faced with a problem she didn't know how to handle. Throw herself into something else totally until an answer came to her. At least the Professor would be preoccupied with tomorrow's ceremony. After that was over, maybe they would talk.

She had no idea what she would say when that time came.

* * *

Snape sat at his writing desk, quill in hand, working on a speech. Several crumpled pieces of parchment were on the floor. Everything he wrote just sounded wrong, contrived. The only part he wanted contrived was his praise of the Minister. He wanted to blast straight from the hip otherwise. He sat there a moment, then an idea came to him. It was a good idea, one that would help him quite a bit when addressing those who came to the ceremony. Most likely there wouldn't be that many people there. It was a weekday after all, and people had to work. Bartleby could help him get what he needed.

The solicitor had offered to write the speech for the Potions master, but Snape refused. Knowing Bartleby, he'd work in an advert or two for Sparse Venues products. That wizard was always looking to the bottom line. Selling the Minister was bad enough. However, Bartleby would be useful in this instance. Snape quickly penned his instructions, summoned Eli and had him deliver the message to Bartleby's office.

The solicitor scanned the message, his brow furrowed, then sighed and got his traveling cloak.

He had research to do.

* * *

At precisely ten AM, the entire wizarding world and outlying areas was absolutely smothered in flyers issued by the Minister of Magic concerning a history making event that no one would want to miss. The flyer promised a shocking, surprising disclosure that would rock the foundation of the wizarding world itself, and promised if it didn't . . . he would step down from office immediately.

This got everyone's attention.

Poppy brought a flyer in to Minerva, who was having a spot of tea.

"Look at this, Minerva! A big event happening tomorrow. The Minister is going to make a history-making disclosure guaranteed to shock and surprise us, or he'll step down from his position!" the former medi-witch said.

Minerva and Poppy lived together after retiring from Hogwarts. They were in pretty good shape for two old birds. Minerva took the flyer and adjusted her glasses, reading it for herself.

"Well now, I'm quite hard to impress, Poppy. I certainly want to be there for this. I wonder what he's up to now?" she said to Poppy who was pouring herself a cup of tea.

"We'll see tomorrow," Poppy replied, blowing on her brew and taking a careful sip.

In his home, Kingsley Shacklebolt was reading a flyer, his brows raised. His wife walked up, drawn by his expression..

"What is that, Kingsley?" she asked her husband, who rubbed his bald head.

"From what I can see, the Minister's public resignation," he replied in his deep rich voice.

At the Burrow, Molly Weasley read her flyer curiously.

"What in the world is the Minister up to?" she wondered aloud. Arthur hadn't said anything about a special ceremony. Hm, it was going to be in Shropshire Gardens. Well, she wasn't going to miss a history making ceremony.

It would be something to tell her great-grandchildren.

All around the wizarding world, former Order members, Hogwarts students, political figures, everyday wizards and witches were fascinated with the mystery surrounding this sudden ceremony. Opponents of Utterton were equally enthralled. If the Minister stepped down, then they could move in. No one was going to miss this. No one.

At Hogwarts, Headmaster Wumblewort read the Official Ministry letter with mixed emotions. The Minister had written to tell him he expected the entire school to be present for his earth-shaking announcement, every single student and staff member.

"Oh good gods," the wizard swore, then hurriedly wrote a memo to his staff.

Narcissa Malfoy brought a flyer into Lucius' study. The wizard took it from her and read it, his gray eyes narrowing.

"I hope the fool does step down," he hissed, "And we're not going to miss it if he does"

At the Ministry itself, employees were going crazy trying to find out exactly what the Minister had planned. No one seemed to know.

Only one other person did besides the Minister, and that was Harry Potter. He was under strict orders not to reveal anything to anyone, not even his own people. They were just to provide heavy security and that's all they needed to know.

At Shropshire Gardens, a huge stage was being erected, with a magical barricade surrounding it. A huge tarp was erected over it in case of bad weather, and powerful wards put in place. Only those with invitations would actually be able to access the stage itself. A large podium was placed in the center, an arrangement of never-fading flowers in front of it. A number of chairs were placed behind it to hold the dignitaries that would be in attendance.

The garden would be opened at eight o'clock to let the expected crowds in.

The Minister was expecting quite a turnout.

* * *

By five that evening, Snape had the information he needed from Bartleby. He read it over, his face stoic and eyes glistening slightly. Yes. This was what he needed. This was what everyone who would be at the ceremony would need.

With this, he could make his point.

Once again, he began to work on his notes. He decided not to write an entire speech.

He had an idea of what he wanted to say, and it wouldn't be wordy at all.

* * *

Hogwarts was all a-buzz with excitement. Classes were to be cancelled tomorrow and the entire school going to wizarding London for a mysterious ceremony. For most students however, it was just an outing, an excuse to get out of class for a day. Rose would be going as well, though Madam Peabody wasn't thrilled about it. Still, the witch was recovering nicely.

Rod was stretched out in his boxer on his huge four-poster bed, enjoying his private room. His housemates were doing a lot of sucking up. The wizard wasn't really falling for it, but decided to make the best of the situation. He was a real Slytherin after all and this was his house. Having fellow students fawning all over him was to be desired overall. When in Rome . . .

He smiled up at the ceiling as he bit into a pepper imp. He had a lot of sweets, given to him by several witches. He blew out a tongue of flame Yes, life was good and at last he finally felt he was where he belonged.

It was a good feeling.

* * *

Hermione retired early, determined not to worry over the Professor. She might consciously be able to push him out of her mind, but her subconscious mind was another story. All night she was haunted by that simple kiss, those dark eyes gazing into hers, the soft, cruel mouth connecting with her own. She tossed and turned the entire night.

The Professor on the other hand, slept like the dead. He had a big day ahead of him.

* * *

Morning came quickly, and people turned out in droves at the Gardens. Most shops weren't opened, the owners leaving them closed to attend the ceremony. There was no direct apparition into the area and the crowd was checked magically and ushered through the gates, getting as close to the stage as possible. Important visitors were taken to another less hectic entrance and led to the stage, where they took their seats, each having a name parchment on it so there would be no complication. They talked to each other in measured tones, wondering what madness Utterton was up to.

Hermione arrived early as well and met up with Molly and Ginny, the three witches getting as close to the stage as possible. Molly wasn't in the best of moods. She had been unable to get any information out of Arthur, who swore he didn't know what was going on.

The entire school of Hogwarts arrived, the staff working to keep all the students together in tight formation as they walked across the grounds. Even a few centaurs were on hand. Hagrid moved his bulk through the crowd, apologizing every three or four steps for jostling unfortunate wizards and witches in his path. He saw Harry and waved at him enthusiastically.

Aurors had taken up positions before the barricade, keeping the crowd back several meters as the seats on the stage filled up, every eye watchful. The gods forbid anything happened. There were thousands here.

At the Ministry, the Minister waited impatiently for Snape to show up, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the hooded wizard showed up escorted by Aurors.

"Are you ready to meet your public?" the Minister inquired brightly.

"If I weren't, would it make a difference?" Snape replied snarkily.

"Not at all. Let us go. Reports say we have quite a turnout. Quite a turnout indeed," Utterton said.

Together with the Aurors they disapparated to a small room built on to the stage.

"You stay here," the Minister said to Snape who sat down in a small chair and took out his notes to study. The Minister left final instructions with the Aurors.

"Under no condition is ANYONE to enter this room. When I call for my guest, you escort him out," he told one Auror, who nodded, knowing that if any error were made it would mean his job.

"Yes sir," he said.

Snape could hear what was going on outside, especially near the podium. Most likely the room was magically wired so he could hear the Minister's statements and use them in his own address. He could hear Utterton being questioned by his constituents.

"You'll see in a few minutes," the Minister replied importantly.

Finally ten o'clock rolled around and the Aurors quieted the crowd as the Minister of Magic was announced. He strode up to the podium.

"Welcome citizens of the Wizarding World and the voting public!" he cried jovially, "Welcome to a truly history making day. I know you are all wondering why I have invited you here and about the mystery surrounding this ceremony. Well, my friends, after years of painstaking research and expenditures of my own personal funds, I have finally succeeded in solving a mystery that has plagued the Wizarding World for more than two decades . . ."

The wizard then launched into a long diatribe regaling himself and his accomplishments until the crowd was grumbling.

"Oh get on with it!" Minerva yelled.

"Yeah, enough talk. What's going on? I'm losing money here!" a shopkeeper cried out.

"I see you are all impatient. Very well. I am about to introduce someone very special to continue this ceremony. Please send him out!" the wizard cried.

There was silence, then a tall, hooded individual walked out onto the stage and to the podium, the smiling Minister moving aside to make room for him. Everyone eyed the figure, unable to see within the hood.

"Would you please reveal yourself, sir," the Minister said, his voice dripping with anticipation. Behind them, the dignitaries craned their necks to see.

Slowly, two pale hands reached up and grasped the sides of the hood, hesitating.

This was it.

* * *

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* * *

Slowly, Professor Severus Snape drew down the hood, gazing out on the crowd soberly, his face impassive.

"I give you one of the Wizarding World's greatest heroes! Professor Severus Snape!" Utterton cried joyously.

A collective gasp went up from the crowd, then . . .wild unrestrained applause as they cheered for the dark wizard.

"Well I'll be damned," Lucius said, his mouth dropping open.

Minerva and Poppy screamed and hugged each other staring at the wizard.

Cheers and cries rose up from thousands upon thousands of people as Snape stared at them, unable to fathom just how deep their joy was. They began chanting his name, some people crying, as the applause thundered.

Hermione covered her mouth, her eyes filling with tears as the multitude screamed their happiness and approval that Professor Severus Snape had indeed survived and was back among them.

The wizard was floored. He knew that there would be some reaction, but nothing like this. A sea of faces were smiling and chanting his name, embracing each other and shooting sparks up into the air in pure jubilation.

He hadn't expected anything like this. The din was deafening. He was home. He was back. One of the men most responsible for the downfall of the darkest wizard in history. Harry stood there, watching Snape, his eyes filled with tears as the wizard stood before the masses, finally getting the recognition he deserved for all his sacrifice. He wiped his face with one hand.

Hermione had tears streaming down her face as Snape stared at the crowd, clearly at a loss at this reaction from so many people. He recognized former students and fellow staff members in the crowd, their faces celebratory as they jumped up and down, applauding. There wasn't a dry eye among them.

Did they all feel so much for him? This was almost too much. Finally, after about five minutes Snape lifted his hands, asking them to stop and hear him.

The crowd calmed, breathless, waiting for him to speak.

The wizard's mouth worked and at first nothing came out. But then he found his voice.

"Thank you," he said, his tone a bit raw. Seeing their reaction had caused an emotional response in him. Never would he have believed so many people would be so happy to know he was alive. He turned to the Minister.

"Thank you, Minister, for convincing me it was time to return to the Wizarding World," he said to the wizard, who smiled and nodded.

Again cheers went up, this time for Utterton, who beamed.

Yes, he was definitely in for a few more terms. Then cries of "Speech! Speech!" rose from the crowd, and Snape took out his notes, smoothing them on the surface of the podium as a smiling Utterton took a seat among the dignitaries, who slapped him on the back and congratulated him for pulling off such a coup.

"I only have a few words to say to all of you," the Potions master began, "I only hope you accept them in the spirit they are given. Yes, I survived the Final Battle, saved by a Bezoar stone from death. And yes, I've lived in seclusion for all these years, my disappearance deemed a mystery and myself, a hero. I spent many years working for the Greater Good and when it was over, I needed a new beginning, a new start. A pain-free existence. And I found that. But no man is an island and now I am back among you," the wizard said.

Cries of "Welcome Back!" and "Hear! Hear!" greeted this statement.

"However, the designation of "Hero" is not one I treasure or even want. I have always been a private man, and hope that my privacy is respected. My greatest desire is to live peacefully and without disturbance, without being accosted and constantly harassed by those of you who feel I am more than any other man. I am not. I was simply one of many who fought against evil. There are others . . . many, many others who sacrificed even more than I did, and it is they who should be honored, who should be remembered, who should be given the highest esteem . . ."

Snape paused, then looked down at his notes.

"Alistar Moody. Bartimeus Crouch Sr. Amelia Bones. Regulus Black. Fred Weasley . . ."

Molly let out a sob as her son's name was called out.

"Nymphadora Tonks. Cedric Diggory. Colin Creevy . . ."

The Professor read off name after name of those who had fallen over the years to Voldemort's evil. There were easily over one hundred names listed, those well known and those hardly known at all.

"Rufus Scrimgeour. Broderick Brode. Remus Lupin . . ."

Harry started at this name, staring at the Professor.

"Bathilda Bagshot. Charity Burbage. Dobby the House Elf. Sirius Black . . ."

Hermione let out a sob as she looked at Harry, who once again had tears streaming down his face.

"Albus Dumbledore. Edgar Bones and his family. A ghost named Moaning Myrtle cut down in her youth by a basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets because of a young Tom Riddle . . .

Rod stared at the wizard, blinking.

Snape hesitated for a moment more then added, "James and Lily Potter."

His Adam's apple worked furiously for a moment as he struggled to continue.

"If you would honor anyone, honor these brave souls who gave their lives for the Greater Good, not those of us who survived. Think of them when you think of heroes, for all of them are worthy to be remembered," he said quietly, turning to look at Harry for a moment, then turning back to the crowd, ending his address with, "Thank you. Thank you all."

The crowd was silent for several moments, then another cheer went up as the Minister walked up to Snape.

"Thank you for that moving speech, Professor," he said to the wizard summarily, shaking Snape's hand as flash bulbs popped and the Minister moved in as close as he could, posing for several photos before addressing the crowd.

"And thank you all for coming. Once again, let's hear it for Severus Snape!"

The crowd went wild as the Minister moved Snape into the crowd of dignitaries all trying to shake his hand and pat him on the back.

It was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	38. An Important Conversation

**Chapter 37 An Important Conversation**

It didn't take Snape long to recover from his reception by the Wizarding World, and he spent most of the day meeting with dignitaries, taking photos and generally boosting the Minister's popularity. By far the most enjoyable part of the day for the wizard was when he, Harry and Minister Utterton sat down for a press conference, which was dominated by Utterton. There were reporters from several newspapers who questioned them, and Harry was unable to respond to any question concerning Snape because Hermione had not yet told him he could. He had taken an Oath not to reveal anything about Severus Snape that wouldn't release until the witch told him it was all right.

Needless to say, the Minister was furious with the Auror, and poor Harry couldn't even tell him he had taken an Oath. Snape sat there with a smirk. He could have helped Harry, but to be honest . . . he was enjoying his browbeating too much to offer the slightest assistance.

Finally at the end of the day, the Minister brought the Potions master into his office with the intention of giving him further instructions. There was to be a dinner the following night in his honor, then the following day a ribbon-cutting for a new Ministry office that Utterton wanted him to attend.

Snape listened to all the Minister had to say, then dropped the bomb on him.

"Minister, I am not a Ministry employee or an elected public official. I am a private citizen with my own life to live and I do not intend to devote another hour of my time being displayed as your personal poster boy for political advancement. I will not be attending ceremonies, cutting ribbons or presenting myself publicly for any reasons except my own. I have lived up to my side of the bargain. You have the recognition for finding me. I suggest you ride that wave of popularity until it reaches the shore," the wizard said coolly, his black eyes resting on Utterton's jowly features.

The Minister looked taken aback.

"What do you mean, Professor? Surely you aren't going to disappear again?" the Minister asked him.

"I am going to return to my work, Minister. A man must work," Snape said evenly.

"Not you. Of course you know that all those who played a role in Voldemort's downfall receive a monthly stipend from the Ministry for the rest of their lives. It isn't an extreme amount, but you have over twenty years of payments in arrears. It is quite a hefty sum, Professor. You could be a man of leisure," the Minister said persuasively, "I am offering you fame, notoriety and the freedom to do what you wish."

The Potions master arched an eyebrow at him.

"But I already have those things, Minister, the first two of which I don't particularly want. There is nothing you can offer me that will change my mind," the wizard said, rising.

"But Professor, it's unconscionable that you will not participate in the public forum," the Minister said. "You have people out here who want to see you. You're a hero."

Snape smirked at him.

"For many, many years I was considered an unconscionable individual, Minister. Why you think that designation would bother me now is beyond me. People might consider me a hero, but what they want as opposed to what I want is of no significance. Unlike you, sir, I am under no obligation to meet the public's needs. Good day," Snape said, pulling up his hood and exiting the Minister's office, his robes billowing behind him.

Utterton scowled after the wizard. Snape was right. There was really nothing the Minister could do to force him to continue building up his political popularity.

He was a free man.

Outside the Ministry, people milled about, hoping to get another glimpse of Snape. A glimpse was what they did get too, the tall hooded wizard appearing on the Ministry steps, walking down to the sidewalk and suddenly disapparating amid cheers, chanting and groans of disappointment.

Snape reappeared on the grounds of his property, feeling a bit dirtied. Not because of the crowds that cheered him. It was easy to see the people were sincere in welcoming him back. It was the stint with the dignitaries that affected him. Every official eye that met his was gleaming, looking at him as if he were some type of tool, something to be used in their personal plans for advancement.

He looked toward his home, then toward the worksite where Hermione was. He stood there a moment, trying to decide if he should go see the witch. He could use a little time in her presence to re-ground himself, to feel the reality that was his life.

He strode toward the site.

* * *

Hermione was looking at the front page of the evening edition of the Daily Prophet, staring at a photo of Professor Snape staring over an undulating cheering crowd. The witch wiped her eyes as she recalled the astonishment on the wizard's face. It had been a beautiful moment, absolutely beautiful. It was easy to see that the wizard was humbled. His address to the crowd had been simple, eloquent and a tribute to everyone they had lost, rather than something geared to self. She had secretly feared he would browbeat everyone, demanding to be left alone and threatening magical violence to anyone who infringed on his privacy. He could be quite snarky. But he hadn't done it.

Hermione wondered how he had fared afterwards with all those officials and hanger-ons. She could imagine the Professor scowling blackly as everyone milled around him, not giving him even space to breathe and shook her head, hoping tomorrow's edition of the Prophet wouldn't announce the newly returned hero's arrest for blasting dignitaries in a fit of exasperation.

Just then a knock sounded on the door and Hermione's heart leaped a bit. Only one person knocked here. She stood up, smoothed down her robes and her hair then walked over to the door. She took a deep breath and opened it.

There, standing in the doorway was the Potions master. Snape stood there stiffly, looking down at Hermione, the memory of the stolen kiss flowing back to him. Gods, how had he forgotten he did that? Well, he was here now.

"It's the wizard of the hour," the Professor said, "May I visit for a few moments? I need to . . . to unwind a bit."

Hermione stepped back.

"Come in, Professor. You must be exhausted," she said sympathetically as Snape walked past her.

"Yes, it was quite a day," he agreed, taking a seat in the armchair.

Hermione sat down on the couch and silence ensued for a bit.

"Your speech was wonderful," Hermione said, meaning it. "I don't think anyone ever read off the names of the fallen in public before. It was a beautiful tribute."

Snape nodded.

"At least one oversight I've managed to correct. What I said was true, however. Those who fell to Voldemort are the ones who should be remembered," he said quietly.

The wizard sighed and relaxed a bit, leaning back and closing his eyes as Hermione looked at him, remembering the kiss he'd given her yesterday in the exercise room. She felt herself flush a bit as she studied his face. He was such a severe looking wizard for the most part. Nothing like Ron with his ready smile and bright, expressive countenance. Professor Snape didn't look like a man who took pleasure in anything. When he did however, it was the way he held his mouth and how his eyes changed that showed it. Only someone familiar with him could see it, would recognize the slightest change as a true expression.

Hermione was so lost in thought gazing at him, she didn't stop when he opened his eyes and looked at her. Snape saw the witch was preoccupied as she looked at him.

"A sickle for your thoughts, Hermione," he purred at her.

Hermione started, turning pink.

"I was . . . I was just wondering how it felt to you to see all those people so happy at your return," the witch lied.

Snape studied her for a moment, and Hermione got the distinct impression he didn't believe that was what she was thinking at all, but if he didn't, he didn't challenge her on it.

"It was . . . surprising," he said, "That and the number of people there on a weekday."

Hermione snorted. He must have been the only person in the world who didn't see the flyer the Minister put out.

"The Minister knows how to draw people in," she responded, smiling. "He put out a flyer that said if everyone wasn't shocked and surprised he'd step down from office."

Snape shook his head.

"I imagine that did provide plenty of incentive for attendance," the wizard said with a small smirk, "He tried to lock me into an agenda of dinners, ribbon-cuttings and the like. I believe he wanted me to be his shadow for the rest of his term in office," he said to Hermione.

"Well, you are quite the feather in his bowler," Hermione replied.

"A feather that I neatly plucked out. I made it quite clear to him that I would not serve in that capacity," Snape commented.

"What did he say to that?" Hermione asked him. She knew how pushy Ministers could be when they wanted their own way.

"I didn't wait for an answer. I was tired and wanted to come home to the peace of my own dwelling," Snape replied.

"Instead, you came here," Hermione said before she could stop herself.

Snape looked at her.

"I find it peaceful here as well. At least when I talk with you, I know I am not being sized up to serve some ulterior purpose," he replied.

Hermione reddened at this statement. She couldn't say the same about the Potions master. Not now. Not after he kissed her the way he did, making it clear he did have some other motive besides keeping an amicable working relationship.

Snape seemed to divine her thoughts and leaned forward in the chair.

"About yesterday, Hermione . . ." he began.

Hermione blinked at him, her belly tightening. She didn't say anything however.

"I want to apologize for the impulsiveness of my actions, but . . . not for the action itself," the wizard said, his dark eyes resting on her. "I felt in lieu of my last foray into the world of . . . of attraction to a witch, I should not hedge when an opportunity to express that attraction presented itself again. I never acted in Lily's case, not that it would have made a difference, but I didn't want to make that same error in your case. You are a brilliant witch, Hermione, one I can talk to and feel comfortable with. Finding a comfort zone with anyone has always been difficult for me, and I hope in reaching such a zone, I haven't inadvertently disturbed yours. It isn't my intention, believe me."

Hermione swallowed and said in a weak voice, "I understand, Professor."

"Do you?" he asked her softly, "Do you really understand, Hermione? Or are you simply trying to stave off what must be discussed? Your acceptance or rejection of my attraction to you and the reasons for it."

"I . . . I don't think I'm ready for such a discussion, Professor," Hermione said softly, "I don't know how I feel about this . . . about you in . . . in another capacity. I don't know if I'm over Ron enough to explore anything else. And to be honest, Professor . . . "

Here Hermione faltered a moment, then continued.

"And I'm not sure if your attraction to me isn't based being in close proximity after being alone so long. You haven't exactly been out and about, Professor. You might feel as you do toward me because . . . because I am 'available.' If you were to meet other witches you might find that they attract you as much as I do," the witch said.

Snape frowned at her.

"Hermione, what level of attraction do you think I am addressing here? Surely not sexual," he said to the witch, who raised her eyebrows at him.

Hell, with that tool? She didn't even want to say it … though she did kind of think it. Again, she didn't answer him.

Snape sighed.

"It isn't that way at all, Hermione. I have needs other than the need for sex, needs far more important in my estimation. Sex can be purchased like a bit of candy from a sweet shop. What I desire is not anything that can be bought," he said wistfully, his Adam's apple working.

He couldn't say what he wanted, but Hermione knew. She knew and her heart went out to the wizard.

He wanted love. He wanted to love and to be loved. Something he had never experienced.

"Oh Professor," she said softly.

Snape looked at her.

"You've told me you're not ready to discuss this, Hermione . . . but tell me, that doesn't necessarily mean rejection, does it?" he asked the witch, his body language stiff.

Her answer was so important.

Hermione studied the dark wizard, then remembered what Ron had said to her:

" . . . if the opportunity arises and you connect with somebody, be willing to take a chance it can become something more . . ."

Hermione did feel a connection to the Potions master on several levels, and she looked forward to the personal time she spent with him. In essence, he was a kind of platonic companion, bringing something to her life she would not have otherwise. Without Professor Snape, she would simply be a book reading workaholic. He helped her keep her mind sharp and brought a bit of extra pleasure in dining with her twice a month. Sure, she had Harry as a male companion, but he was married and he wasn't much on intellectual pursuits. He always gave up too quickly during an argument. But not Professor Snape, he'd keep going just to piss her off and she liked that about him, very much. She realized that if they were to stop associating the way they did, she would honestly miss him.

Now this didn't mean she wanted him climbing all over her, because that was something she was quite apprehensive about. Maybe if she had never seen him naked it wouldn't have entered her mind as a possible deterrent to establishing something more. But she had and it was daunting.

Still, the Professor had made it clear his attraction to her wasn't based on sexual desire although he found her physically attractive. She believed him, because he was right. If he wanted sex he could simply buy it as he'd done over the past two decades.

There was so much that needed to be said between the two of them, and so much more that needed to be explored. But the wizard was waiting for an answer now.

"No," she said softly, "It isn't an immediate rejection, Professor."

Snape nodded.

"Good," he breathed, relief on his face

Snape looked less severe and younger than what he was for a moment. But just a moment as he rose.

"I have taken up enough of your time, Hermione," he said to the witch, "I will see you on our usual day for dinner at my home, I presume?"

Hermione rose also.

"Of course, and it is my turn to suggest the entrée. Roast duck," she said to the wizard, glad he hadn't pushed for more.

"Water fowl. How delightful," he said to her, smirking, "As you wish."

He opened the door and looked at her as if he would like to dart in and steal another kiss, but decided against it. What she had told him made him feel heady enough to carry him through this evening and the next.

Hermione hadn't accepted his advances, yet she hadn't rejected them either, which to Snape meant she felt at least some return interest.

Well, he had to work on her a bit more.

"Good night Professor," Hermione said to him, breaking through his thoughts

"Good night, witch," the wizard replied, exiting the apartment and striding up the hall to the foyer. Hermione heard the voice announce his departure.

As Snape strode across the grounds he thought about this upcoming Friday. If he were going to put his best foot forward, that would be the night to do it.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	39. Making Arrangements

**Chapter 38 Making Arrangements**

The next morning, a rather surprised Bartleby found Snape waiting for him outside of his office. He greeted the dour wizard and let him in, curious as hell as to what would bring him out. True, his existence was no longer a secret, but usually he sent his instructions by elf. It was convenient.

Snape took a seat as did Bartleby, who shuffled through a large stack of parchments on his desk. The solicitor shook his head and looked at Snape.

"This are mostly requests for you, Professor," the wizard said, handing him a stack of the letters.

Snape took them, read the first three, then shuffled through the rest impatiently, finally handing them back to Bartleby.

Most of the letters were from officials who wanted him to attend various functions. A couple were fan letters and one or two from witches who would like to meet him over dinner.

"Not interested," the wizard said shortly

Bartleby looked at him.

"Well, these are definitely going to get worse before they get better," Bartleby said, "Might I make a suggestion?"

Snape nodded.

"As far as those asking for you to make an appearance, why not charge a fee for your attendance? Something rather hefty," the wizard suggested, "After all, your time is valuable and a few more galleons doesn't hurt. It also might serve as a deterrent. And this way, you can inform those making inquiries that you have other pressing engagements if you don't wish to attend. They would have no reason to doubt it if you are being paid for your time."

Snape considered it.

"All right, Bartleby. I'll leave that up to you. Prepare some type of brochure to cover that and send it to all those interested," the wizard said.

"Good show," Bartleby smiled, "Now to what do I owe your presence in my office?"

"I would like you to make dinner arrangements for me for this Friday," Snape said to him, "Someplace nice, where I and my companion will not be disturbed. Still, it has to be a public establishment," Snape said, "and the dinner must feature roast duck."

Bartleby looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"You're going on a date, Professor?" he asked the wizard, a little taken aback.

Snape wasn't wasting any time, was he?

"Yes. I am, Bartleby. I want to make a good impression, but I don't want it to be too intimate a setting. My companion might feel uncomfortable," he said, "This is to be a low-pressure excursion."

"Might I ask who you are taking out?" Bartleby said curiously.

Snape looked at him.

"Mrs. Weasley," he replied.

Bartleby blinked at him.

"Your employee, Hermione Weasley?" the solicitor asked.

"The same," Snape replied.

Bartleby began to think of all the legal problems dating an employee could cause if anything were misconstrued. Particularly sexual harassment issues. The Professor could be facing a lawsuit if he wasn't careful. It wasn't wise to shag the help.

"Er . . . if this is a matter of finding a suitable dinner companion, Professor, I know of several escort agencies that provide a fine selection of witches for just that purpose," Bartleby said delicately, "It might be more prudent than dating an . . . employee."

"What do you mean by 'more prudent,' Bartleby?" Professor Snape asked him.

His eyes were slightly narrowed.

"I can give you several examples of legal horror stories concerning witches 'dating' their bosses, Professor, with resulting charges ranging from sexual coercion, to unmet promises, to sexual harassment and even rape. There are reasons some corporations have strict rules against management fraternizing with employees, good reasons. You could be ruined if Mrs. Weasley decided you were being untoward in any manner and accused you of using your position of authority to force her into a compromising situation. After all, who can say no to the person who pays their salary?" Bartleby said, frowning slightly.

"Mrs. Weasley has no problem saying no to anything she doesn't wish to do, Bartleby, I assure you," the Professor said evenly, "Besides, we have been dining together twice a month for quite a while now as well as spending time together."

Bartleby looked horrified. Was Snape really shagging Mrs. Weasley? Oh good gods, this was terrible. The solicitor had been wondering why there had been no "entertainment" charges under business expenditures lately. This explained a lot. Why pay for sex when you could get the trim for free?

By the look on Bartleby's face, Snape realized how this sounded and quickly made a few amendments to his original statement.

"The time we spend together is spent discussing topics to do with our fields of expertise, Mr. Bartleby. Purely platonic up to this point. We simply enjoy each other's company and the mental sparring. The witch is brilliant and formidable. I simply wish to change our surroundings for this meal. Now that I am no longer a secret, I see no reason why I should continue to hide out," he said by way of clarification.

But Bartleby was a solicitor used to divining the heart of a matter and focused on the six words, "Purely platonic up to this point."

"Up to this point, Professor? Has something changed?" he asked the wizard.

"No. Not yet, Bartleby, but I am hoping it will in time," Snape replied.

Bartleby shook his head slightly. This was not the time for Snape to tie himself down with a witch, particularly a witch who was an employee. He should be cashing in on his fame, playing the field, sampling a number of women. He was a hero and women loved heroes, quite physically. True, Snape wasn't much on looks, but most witches wouldn't care about that, he came with so many perks. In an intimate situation they could always close their eyes and pretend passion made them do so.

"Professor, I may be overstepping my bounds in saying this, but because of our long association I believe I do have a duty to speak honestly to you when I say that I don't believe it is wise to pursue a relationship with Mrs. Weasley for a number of reasons. Firstly, she has already been married, is a widow and has children. It would be better if you found a woman who doesn't have such . . . baggage with her. A witch who has never been married or employed by you. Someone who can start out fresh. Who can give you children of your own. Not to say Mrs. Weasley isn't a pleasant individual, but a man in your position could do much better. You could find someone younger, more physically attractive . . ."

Bartleby was suddenly cut off by the Professor, whose voice was low and harsh.

"You are correct Bartleby, in saying you may be overstepping your bounds. You are, and I do not appreciate it. In matters of business, we have often 'bumped heads' so to speak, you voicing opposition to steps I wish to take. That is understandable and in essence what I hired you for, to be a kind of steward for my interests. However, that right extends ONLY to business, Mr. Bartleby. I am not in need of a counselor when it comes to my personal life, or someone to point out what I need or would be better off with when it comes to witches. I already know what I want, Mr. Bartleby, and it isn't to sit across a table watching some piece of eye-candy who couldn't string two coherent sentences together if they were pierced and threaded stuff her face. Nor is it some clingy, perky-breasted sex kitten in a thong barely out of puberty to roll around a mattress with because she can 'breed.' Someone who, I might add, would most likely come with a pre-nup at least ten pages long."

The wizard's voice softened somewhat.

"I am looking for a woman with life experience and intelligence, who won't burst into tears the moment I say something thoughtless or forget to tell her how sexy she is. Someone who knows herself and what she wants out of life. Someone who can function with or without me. Mrs. Weasley is far from old, Mr. Bartleby and completely capable of providing what I need, even of bearing children if that is what we both want. Unlike most men, Mr. Bartleby, I am looking for something more, something worth having, something worth working toward. I am not getting any younger, and wish to have a relationship that is mature and will last a lifetime. So you see, Bartleby, as well meaning as your intentions are, I don't need or want your advice in this matter. I only need you to do as I ask. Do we understand each other?"

Bartleby studied his client.

"Yes. Yes we do," he said quietly.

"Good," Snape said, sitting back and relaxing somewhat, "Now you need to update the public information on Sparse Venues Inc., using my name openly. This blasted fame should be good for something."

* * *

It was nearly December now, and Hogwarts was all a-buzz about the upcoming Christmas dance. Witches were running about the school in giggling clusters as young wizards looked at them furtively, trying to figure out exactly how to cut one out of the group in order to ask for a date. 

Rod was made aware of the dance as he walked through the Slytherin Common Room on his way to breakfast. A group of witches were in there. Now that Rod was properly sorted, had a private room and didn't clean stables any longer, he was much more palatable.

"Hi Rod," they all sang out at him.

"Hi," he called back, not slowing his walk at all. Suddenly he had to pull up short, a black-haired, green-eyed seventh-year witch almost seeming to materialize in front of him.

"Where are you going, Rod?' she asked him, her voice a purr.

"Ah, the only place to go at this time of morning is breakfast," he replied, trying to step around the witch.

The others giggled.

"Oh," the witch said, still blocking his way.

"I'd like to get there early," Rod said to her. She was pretty, but he didn't like her. He didn't like any of the witches in Slytherin, they had treated him so badly.

"We were just wondering who you were taking to the Christmas dance," she said to him.

Rod blinked at her.

"Christmas dance?" he repeated a bit shakily.

"Yes. You know what that is. We have one every year," she said to him.

They might have one every year, but Rod never went. He didn't want to be laughed out because he didn't have nice clothing to wear. Besides, he wouldn't have a date.

"Yes, I know," he said, still a bit dazed at being asked about it.

The witch looked at him impatiently.

"So who are you taking?" she asked him again.

"I . . . I haven't thought about it," he replied, "I haven't asked anyone."

All the girls giggled again.

"Go for it, Muriel," one of the witches said as Muriel smiled at Rod a bit predatorily.

"Well, you can ask me, Rod. I'd go with you," she said to him, fluttering her long, black lashes.

Rod thought she looked a bit as if she'd bite him.

"I guess I could ask you," he said, "But I'm not going to. I don't even think I'm going."

Muriel scowled at him.

"If you'd just ask me, then you could go!" she snapped, "You'd have a date then."

"I . . . I don't know what I'm going to do," he said a bit lamely.

Rod didn't want to blatantly tell Muriel he didn't want to take her to the ball, or any of them actually. He had a feeling they wouldn't take it very well.

Actually, they weren't taking his hesitance very well either. You'd think he'd hop on a chance to take a witch like Muriel to the dance.

A black witch, Laquita Slythe called out, "Forget it, Muriel. He probably wants to take that Gryffindor to the dance. The one he saved. Thinks he'll get a bit of a shag for it."

The witches all gave an ugly little laugh.

Muriel gave Rod a scornful look.

"Is that it, Rod? You want to get under Rose Weasley's robes? Is that why you're turning your nose up at Slytherin witches from your own house? You're pathetic," she snarled at him, "You have no taste at all."

Now Rod scowled.

"I have taste all right, but you birds leave a bad one in my mouth," he snapped back at her, pushing by and heading for the exit.

Suddenly he drew his wand and quickly turned, blocking a stunner an irate Muriel threw at him. The spell bounced back and hit her, the witch falling unconscious as the others screamed and ran toward her.

Rod shook his head and put his wand back in his pocket, opening the double doors and walking quickly down the damp corridor.

"Witches," he breathed, heading for breakfast.

* * *

A/N: Snape certainly told Bartleby, didn't he. And lol about poor Rod. Thanks for reading. 


	40. Hugo Pulls an Albus

**Chapter 39 Hugo Pulls an "Albus"**

As Rod walked toward breakfast, he began to think it might be a good idea to grab something and go eat elsewhere this morning. The witches were bound to be furious with him and he didn't feel like being glared at the entire time he was in the Great Hall.

Students from all houses spoke to Rod as he passed, having decided he was an all right sort, even if he were in Slytherin. The wizard turned into the Great Hall just as Hugo, James, Albus and Lily appeared on the Main stairwell heading for breakfast themselves. Lily was very excited. Hugo had asked her to come to the Christmas ball with him. It took the pressure off of asking another witch. Hugo wasn't yet completely enamored of them yet. Going with his cousin was fine as far as he was concerned.

Rod quickly walked to the Slytherin table and hastily made two egg and bacon sandwiches, wrapping them in napkins and putting them in his pocket as the other wizards looked on. They still didn't talk to Rod that much, but no longer bothered him. They watched as he headed out of the Great Hall.

Rod pushed the door open just as Hugo and his relatives were coming in. The Gryffindor gave him a big smile.

"Hey Rod," Hugo said, stopping as the others gave the Slytherin a quick greeting and continued inside.

"Hi Hugo," he said, walking past him.

"Where are you going?" Hugo asked him.

"I thought I'd eat outside," the wizard replied, "It'll be better."

Hugo looked curious.

"Why would it be better?" Hugo asked him.

Rod sighed.

"I pissed off some Slytherin witches, and I think I'd be better off outside when they got here," he said to Hugo.

"You did? Wow. What did you do?" Hugo pressed. Slytherin witches were notoriously mean. They'd hex you the minute your back was turned.

Rod looked toward the dungeon entrance furtively, imagining the scowling witches marching toward the Great Hall, wands in hand, Muriel leading the bunch.

"I really need to go, Hugo," Rod said nervously.

"All right," Hugo said realizing the witches might show up at any time, "Wait for me outside. I'll eat with you."

"Okay," Rod said, willing to say anything to get out of the Main Hall.

Hugo hurried inside and Rod made a beeline for the double doors that led on to the grounds. It was freezing out. Rod quickly cast a warming charm around himself getting rid of the bite. It felt more like a very cool day now.

Presently Hugo came out, munching on a doughnut. He immediately stiffened.

"Wow, it's cold," he complained, his teeth chattering.

Rod pulled out his wand again and cast a warming spell on Hugo also.

"Thanks," Hugo said gratefully. Warming charms were learnt in fifth year so he didn't know it yet.

The two wizards began to walk idly around the castle, Rod pulling out a sandwich.

"So what happened?" Hugo asked him.

"One of the witches tried to hex me when my back was turned," Ron replied, biting into his sandwich.

"What for?" Hugo pressed.

Rod sighed.

"She wanted me to ask her to the Christmas dance, and I didn't want to," he said, frowning.

"Was she ugly?" Hugo inquired.

"Not outside. No," Rod answered, "I just don't like her. Anyway, I've never gone to a Christmas ball. I don't even know how to dance."

Hugo stopped walking and looked at Rod incredulously.

"You've never been to a Christmas dance?" he asked him, "But you're a seventh year."

Rod shrugged.

"I've never gone to any of them. I'm poor, remember? I didn't have anything nice to wear and no witch would go with me anyway."

Rod sounded a little bitter about this. Everyone seemed to have a lot of fun at the dances and they only made him feel more ostracized.

"So what happened when she tried to hex you?" Hugo asked him, pulling out another donut and biting into it.

"I blocked it and it hit her," Rod replied.

Hugo grinned from ear to ear.

"Bet she didn't see that coming," the Gryffindor chuckled.

"No, but now they're all mad at me. I'm going to have to be careful for a while," the Slytherin said.

Hugo shook his head. It was bad enough when wizards and witches outside your house tried to ambush you. It had to be a hundred times worse when they were your housemates.

"So are you going to go to the dance?" Hugo asked him. "I'm going."

Rod looked at the fourth year curiously. He had a date?

"Who are you going with?" Rod asked him.

"My cousin Lily. She's a second year," Hugo replied, "This way I don't have any pressure. She's good for something."

Rod laughed.

"Yeah, but I don't have a cousin to ask to the dance," Rod said.

"You should ask Rose. I bet she'd go with you," Hugo suggested.

Rod dropped some of the bacon out of his second sandwich.

"No. No I couldn't ask her to the ball, Hugo," he said, turning red. He certainly felt warmer now. "I don't even know how to dance. Besides, why would she go with me? I'm nobody. She's the best chaser in Gryffindor. Plus I'm a Slytherin."

Hugo looked at him incredulously.

"If it wasn't for you, she would have been shish kabob, Rod. Witches appreciate things like getting saved from death. I bet she'd go with you. I'll ask her for you," he offered.

Rod's eyes looked as if they were going to bug out of his head.

"Ah no, that's all right, Hugo," he said weakly.

"No, it's fine. I'll ask her this afternoon when I go see her," the boy said enthusiastically, "Better you than that idiot Roland Bainsley. He's a jerk. He's always chasing after Rose. I don't like him a bit. Don't like how he looks at her."

Hugo scowled blackly. Roland Bainsley was another seventh year Gryffindor who really did have designs on Rose. He was also very jealous of her, though they didn't go out.

"Hugo," Rod said to the fourth year plaintively, "Listen, I don't think . . ."

Hugo smiled at him.

"You're going to have a great time with Rose, Rod," he said with a huge grin. "Listen, I'm still hungry so I'm going to head back to the Great Hall for some more doughnuts. I'll tell you what she says tomorrow. See you later."

And "poof!" Hugo disappeared as if he had apparated. Rod blinked after him, feeling like he had a ton of rock cakes in his stomach. Him and Rose at the ball? He couldn't even dance. He had never even walked a witch to class, much less took her out on a date.

Maybe Rose would say no though. She had to be popular. A lot of wizards probably were planning on asking her to the ball. Maybe she even already had a date.

Rod hoped so. He really didn't much care what people thought about him in general, but he didn't want Rose to think he was a loser. He didn't know the first thing about how to treat a witch on a date.

Rod still didn't have that much confidence despite his situation at Hogwarts being better and people treating him nicer. His face was still a bit acned, though he had taken to caring for his skin better thanks to Madam Peabody who sent him a kit after meeting him in the infirmary with instructions how to use it.

But, somewhere deep inside he felt a little elated at the thought that Rose might go to the dance with him. She had always been pleasant to him and he really did admire her Quidditch skills. Having her brother ask her for him was a bit lame, but he did try to stop Hugo from doing it, and if she did say no, the rejection might not hurt as much from afar.

Rod finished his sandwich and headed back for the castle. Whatever was going to happen would happen. He'd just deal with it.

The wizard smiled a little as he thought about how the witches in Slytherin would lose some tail feathers if Rose did accompany him to the dance. That in itself was worth dodging a few hexes.

* * *

Snape returned home and headed down into his labs to check on his brewing. As he checked each cauldron, his mind wandered back to his talk with Bartleby. It was the first time he had ever voiced what it was that he wanted. What he felt he needed. Stability, Maturity. Experience.

Hermione already knew what it was to be a wife and a mother. She had handled it successfully. She had also experienced loss and pain, and knew as well as what it was to rebuild a life. Above all, she knew how to love.

The wizard carefully stirred his mixtures, adjusting the flame as he moved from cauldron to cauldron. Bartleby had no idea what his life had been like. The prostitutes he indulged in from time to time were all pretty, shapely witches, but little more than vessels to catch his release. He didn't even embrace them, or put his mouth anywhere near them. The most he would do was caress the soft skin of their backs and buttocks or play with whatever hair was exposed beneath the hood while he slaked his desire. It was rather clinical in nature, though he was gentle and thorough with the women. Contrary to belief, Severus Snape was not an inherently cruel man. He never had been. Anger, rage and despair fueled him all those years at Hogwarts. He lashed out at the world because he found no beauty in it. All he found was pain.

But that was all behind him now. He could see the beauty, the possibilities that awaited him if only he'd pursue them, not let them pass him by. Hermione had been the first witch he'd kissed in ages and the first witch he'd wanted to kiss since Lily Potter. The contact and her surprise had been rather delicious, her amber eyes full of shock when he looked at her afterwards. He left quickly, because although he got away with the first kiss, he was sure a second kiss would have been overkill.

Snape sincerely hoped Hermione would enjoy going out on the town with him. He'd make it clear to her that it was a simple outing, something different that he thought she'd enjoy. There would be no pressure. He had found another Charms vs. Potions article that he was sure would put her into battle mode despite their location, and he could imagine her yelling at him how ridiculous the concept was while trying to keep her voice down in a public place. Maybe he'd make her lose it completely and she'd roar at him in exasperation.

The wizard smirked. Hermione was so passionate about what she believed in. Could she ever become passionate about a man like him?

Gods, he hoped so.

* * *

"Hey Rose! Are you getting out soon?" Hugo said, pushing past the privacy curtain and walking up to his sister, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

Rose sat up.

"I hope so. Maybe Friday if Madam Peabody will let me go. I swear, Hugo, if I get another bowl of gruel I'm going to be stuck in here for malnutrition next," she complained.

Hugo looked about furtively, then passed her a napkin containing a roast beef sandwich, which Rose promptly slipped under her pillow.

"Thanks Hugo," she said gratefully as he pulled up a chair, smiling at her.

"Rose, do you have a date for the dance yet?" he asked her eagerly.

Rose shook her head.

"No, but I expect Roland will ask me. Again," she sighed, "I might end up having to go with him. No one else will ask me because he's so jealous. I heard he threatened to beat Monroe Gadston up when he said he was thinking about asking me. You know how big Roland is."

"Yes as big and as bright as a troll," Hugo snorted, "But listen, I know someone who'd love to take you to the dance. He's really nice."

Rose looked interested.

"Who?" she asked him.

"Rod Dormers," Hugo said enthusiastically.

"Rod? He wants to go to the dance with me?" Rose said, surprised. Rod was so shy. She couldn't imagine him asking her to go with him anywhere. She looked at her brother suspiciously.

"How do you know he wants to go with me?" she asked him, "Did he tell you he did?"

Hugo looked a little taken aback by her question.

"No, but I told him I'd ask you for him, and he didn't say not to," Hugo said, "That's practically saying he wants to go with you. I told him I'd give him your answer tomorrow."

Rose's brows furrowed as she looked at her meddling little brother. It was easy to see he liked Rod.

"How did you get on the subject of the Christmas dance anyway?" Rose asked him.

Hugo told Rose how Rod had never gone to any of the Hogwarts dances because he was so poor and didn't have nice things, and how this year one of the witches at Slytherin wanted him to ask her, and he didn't want to, then how she tried to hex him when his back was turned and how Rod deflected it back and stunned her instead.

"Wow. The witches are really pushy in Slytherin aren't they?" Rose said, frowning.

"Yeah. Rod ate his breakfast outside so they wouldn't see him," Hugo said, "He cast a warming spell on me so I'd stay warm when I was with him. You'll go with him, won't you Rose? He's never been to a dance and you owe him."

"I don't owe him," Rose said stubbornly.

"You do so. You'd be six feet under if not for Rod," Hugo argued.

Rose hesitated. Yes, that was true. Plus, Rod had never been to a dance before. It would be nice for him to attend at least one before he left Hogwarts. He'd never had much fun there. Despite Rod being a Slytherin, she didn't think anyone would really say anything about him escorting her, particularly since he saved her and got arrested for her.

"Can he dance?" Rose asked Hugo, who shook his head.

"No, he can't," Hugo admitted.

Rose sighed.

"Well, how is he going to take me to the dance if he can't dance, Hugo?" the witch asked her brother, who shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe you can show him before you two go," Hugo suggested, "I'll help you. Mum had us dancing way before it was necessary."

Hugo scowled as he remembered two-stepping around the house with Rose, following his mum and dad. He had hated it.

Rose looked at her brother. He was willing to actually dance himself to help Rod so he could go to the dance with her? He must really like Rod.

"Come on, sis. Be nice," Hugo cajoled her, "It's just a dance."

Hugo gave Rose the same puppy dog eyes Ron used to use on Hermione. They worked just as well on Rose. She folded.

"All right. Tell Rod if he's willing to learn to dance, I'll go with him to the Christmas dance, but we're going to have to practice first. I don't want to look bad on the floor or have to stand around drinking punch all night," the witch said with a scowl.

Hugo did a little happy dance.

"That's great sis. You're all right, you know that?" he said to her, smiling.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," she responded, smiling herself, "But you'll never hear the end of this if anything goes wrong."

"What could possibly go wrong?" Hugo asked her, his smile seeming to be plastered on his face.

Walking back toward Gryffindor Tower was Roland and a few other wizards. They were taking the main stairwell.

"I'll be glad when Rose gets out of the infirmary," Roland said in his deep, growly voice, his brown eyes a bit hard, "I still have to ask her to the dance. No one else better have or there's going to be trouble. Big trouble."

None of his companions said a word about this.

They all knew how Roland was.

* * *

A/N: The title for this chapter came from my own personal interpretation of Albus from previous stories I've written. He was always extremely meddlesome when it came to Severus and Hermione, working behind the scenes to get them together. In this instance, Hugo is playing matchmaker. Lol. Thanks for reading. 


	41. The Date is Set

**Chapter 40 The Date is Set**

The next morning, Hugo was waiting anxiously at the head of the dungeon corridor for Rod to appear. The Slytherin had a rough evening with the Slytherin witches, who although they didn't hex him, all clucked and chattered at him as the wizards just shook their heads. At this rate, Rod was never going to get shagged. Didn't he realize all he had to be was nice to them?

Rod was on the radar because every witch in Slytherin house knew he had never gone out with a witch. They were very manipulative and vying to see who could get the wizard to jump through hoops for them. He was powerful, and one thing the witches appreciated was power and he had scored points for outhexing Freud and his cronies. Getting the wizard under one of their manicured little thumbs was the challenge.

Too bad they didn't stand a chance of doing it. There wasn't much truth in the saying "you can catch more flies with sugar than with shit," since flies prefer feces, but in Rod's case, the erroneous statement was true. The witches had messed up so bad, they could be as nice to Rod as possible and he still wouldn't like them. He stopped taking candy from them as well, thinking they might try to poison him or something. He might have been right. They were vindictive little bitches.

Hugo watched as the Slytherins passed him by and finally Rod showed up. The startled wizard was grabbed by the arm and he pulled out his wand swiftly, pointing it between Hugo's eyes before he realized who it was. He put his wand away and shook his head at the bug-eyed Gryffindor.

"Wow, you're fast with a wand, Rod," Hugo said when he found his voice.

"You shouldn't grab me like that, Hugo," Rod replied.

But Hugo was safe. Rod wasn't the kind of wizard who hexed first. He preferred to block spells rather than attack. Good thing for Hugo. The fourth year motioned to Rod to follow him. When they were in a secluded area of the hall, he looked at Rod excitedly.

"Rose said she'd go to the dance with you," Hugo said with a big smile as Rod went three shades whiter.

"She what?" the Slytherin said in disbelief.

"She said she'd go with you, but you have to learn how to dance first. Don't worry though, we're both going to teach you how," Hugo informed him happily.

Rod groaned.

"Don't worry. I know how to dance good. First you'll watch me with Rose, then you can try it," Hugo said, "We'll use the Room of Requirement. It'll be great. You'll see. You'll be dancing in no time."

Rod simply stared at Hugo, trying to process the fact that he was going to go to the Christmas dance with Rose Weasley.

"She said yes?" he said rather blankly.

"I told you that," Hugo said, frowning at him a bit, "She said yes and is going to help teach you to dance when she gets out of the infirmary. Probably tomorrow or Saturday."

"Um, all right," Rod said, still dazed.

"Well, I'm going to go eat. I'll see you when Rose gets out," Hugo said with a smile, then headed for the Great Hall. Rod just stood there for about five minutes, then turned and walked into the Great Hall as if in a living dream. There was a sense of unreality as he mechanically ate his breakfast. He couldn't even taste it. He just . . . swallowed.

He was going to the dance.

* * *

Eli popped into Snape's study. The wizard was making a wish list of ingredients he wanted to try and cultivate next spring when the elf walked up to him with a parchment.

"From Mr. Bartleby, sir," Eli squeaked.

Snape took it from him and the elf winked out. He opened it and read it quickly, nodding.

Professor,

I have secured reservations for you and Mrs. Weasley at seven-thirty at Julwyn's Restaurant. It is an establishment where a number of well-known people dine without incident, the staff priding itself on its patrons enjoying a meal without being accosted by the public. However, it is a bit pricey, which probably accounts for why the public doesn't accost the patrons. They can't afford to eat there.

Your meal will consist of the following:

Smoked Trout Salad

Roast breast of Barbary duck on a ruby wine and black currant sauce

Fresh seasonal vegetables,

New and roasted potatoes

Baked Chocolate Cheesecake with clotted cream

Coffee with Mints

They have an extensive wine and spirits list as well as the usual libations. I trust your meal will be enjoyable.

J. Bartleby

Snape folded up the parchment. It was all arranged. Now, should he inform Hermione beforehand or surprise her? At first he thought he would surprise the witch, but thought about it. She might not appreciate that. He decided it would be best to go the direct route and tell her up front. If she didn't want to go, he could have Bartleby cancel the reservation. Hopefully there wouldn't be a charge for it.

He'd stop by the site during her lunch hour.

* * *

At noon, Hermione put away her work and headed for her apartment for lunch. It was too cold to eat outside. As she walked down the hall, the foyer door opened and the female voice announced: "Professor Severus Snape has entered the building. Authorized."

Hermione stopped and watched as the wizard strode up the hall, a very sober expression on his face as he approached, his black eyes resting on her. He was so . . . imposing.

"Hello Hermione," the wizard said by way of greeting, "I wanted to talk to you about our dinner this Friday."

Hermione smiled and opened the door to her apartment, entering, Snape following behind her.

"Don't tell me duck is out of season," she quipped as she headed for the kitchen, Snape billowing behind.

"Not that I know of," the Professor replied, taking a seat at the kitchen table as Hermione opened the cooler and took out bread and sliced chicken. She sat the food on the table and looked at him.

"Join me for lunch?" she asked the wizard.

Snape wasn't very hungry right now.

"No thank you," he replied.

Hermione shrugged and retrieved a few extras and a plate, then set about constructing her sandwich.

"So what about dinner?" she asked the wizard as she worked, slicing a tomato.

Snape eyed the knife a moment, then decided if she did get angry she probably wouldn't cut him too deeply. He took a quiet, steadying breath.

"I've made reservations for dinner," he said, watching her closely.

Hermione looked up at him, startled.

"Reservations? Where?" the witch asked.

"Julwyn's Restaurant. The food is supposed to be quite good," he offered the scowling witch, "I just thought it would be nice to eat someplace other than my dining room. I haven't had the pleasure of eating at a restaurant in years."

Hermione's scowl disappeared when the Professor said this. It was true. He had been trapped on these premises for more than two decades. Of course he'd like to go out to eat.

"What about the public? You are still news, Professor," Hermione said, putting her sandwich together.

"This establishment while not exclusive, prides itself on its patrons enjoying a trouble-free meal. We should be fine. I also have a very interesting article to discuss over our meal," he said, his lip twisting slightly.

Hermione recognized that look. He had something he knew would get her going.

"About?" she asked him, already knowing the answer.

"The usual," he replied obliquely, "I will show it to you Friday night during the appetizer. It isn't very long, but impressive in its scope."

Hermione snorted as she sat down.

"You always say that and usually the article is only good for wiping my bum with," she said, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Your eloquence never ceases to amaze me, Hermione," the wizard said with a smirk.

"Nor do your dismal choices of articles to debate," Hermione responded, "You never win."

"I never lose either," the wizard countered, "To date all of our debates have ended in draws."

"That's because you continuously find ways to bring up the same argument time and time again," Hermione said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "You just approach it from different angles."

"I do not," the wizard began to argue.

Hermione was just about to engage him in a heated little argument when Eli suddenly winked in with a parchment.

"For you, Miss. From Hogwarts," the elf said, handing her the letter then winking out.

Hermione's brow furrowed worriedly as she opened the parchment and read it, Snape watching as she slowly smiled.

"It's from Rose," Hermione said, "She needs a dress for the Christmas ball. She has a date . . . and you'd never guess who with . . ."

"Some insanely popular young wizard no doubt," Snape replied rather snarkily. That's the way it always was after all.

"Actually, she's going with Rod Dormers, if she can teach him how to dance first," Hermione replied, "She says he's never been to a dance before. That's sad isn't it? He's been at Hogwarts almost seven years and never went to a single ball. I'm glad she's going with him. He seems like a nice boy."

Hermione read a bit further, then shook her head and laughed.

"It says here that Hugo asked her for him. He did seem rather shy when I met him," the witch said, "Seems as if there's some meddling going on."

"Undoubtedly," Snape replied, looking rather thoughtful.

It seemed Rose had a kind heart like her mother. It was nice of the witch to agree to attend the ball with the young wizard.

"Well, I'll go down to Hogsmeade on Saturday and purchase a nice dress for her," she said.

Snape didn't say anything for a minute. He was thinking.

"Maybe I will accompany you," he said quietly.

"Why?" Hermione asked the wizard. Most men hated going shopping with women.

"I suspect Mr. Dormers is in need of a suitable set of dress robes. It is his first dance after all and although I am sure he can transfigure a passable set, I think he would appreciate something new and all his own," Snape said.

Hermione looked at him, her heart warmed.

"You're going to buy him a set of dress robes?" she asked the wizard.

"Yes. A very nice set," Snape replied.

Hermione gave him a soft smile.

"I told you that you have a heart," she said softly, "That's wonderful, Professor."

"He's going to be representing Slytherin house. I can't have a Gryffindor witch outdressing him," the wizard snarked in a vain attempt to show it was a matter of House pride rather than a soft heart.

"Whatever," Hermione said, looking at him fondly.

He really was a wonderful wizard.

They soon returned to their initial argument about Snape's manipulation of subject matter and spent a very enjoyable hour together before Hermione returned to work all red-faced and flustered, and Snape returned to his home, a thin smile on his face.

He had enjoyed Hermione's company so much he was tempted to tell her to take the rest of the day off just so they could continue sharing the day. But that would have been overstepping the boundaries between work and personal time.

He had to maintain those boundaries of employer/employee, especially on company time. It was tempting to manipulate the witch into spending a bit more time with him, but he resisted the urge. At least Hermione agreed to go to dinner with him, and he had made a few brownie points by deciding to purchase dress robes for Rod. Not to mention they would be out together in each other's company.

Yes, things were moving along quite nicely. Quite nicely indeed.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	42. Hermione Opens Up

**Chapter 41 Hermione Opens Up**

Rod was quite surprised when he was summoned to the Headmaster's office that evening. Last time he was there, he was being arrested for using the Locomordres spell. The gargoyle was already aside when he arrived and he took the spiral staircase, then knocked tentatively on the office door.

"Come in," the Headmaster called.

Rod slowly opened the office door and entered Wumblewort's presence, his blue eyes worried as the Headmaster looked at him consideringly.

"Sit down, Mr. Dormers," the Headmaster said, gesturing to an armchair in front of his desk.

Rod did so, sitting stiffly and saying nothing.

Wumblewort studied him silently for a moment, then asked, "Mr. Dormers, are you aware of any reason why former Headmaster Severus Snape would be interested in you?"

Rod blinked at the wizard.

"No sir," he said.

Rod wasn't about to tell Wumblewort about the part the dark wizard played in getting him set free. He then noticed the Headmaster had a parchment in his hand and was looking at it, puzzled.

"I received this letter from the former professor. It says he will be arriving at ten o'clock Saturday morning to pick you up. He doesn't give a reason why. Are you at all familiar with him?" Wumblewort asked the boy, his eyes narrowed.

"I saw him at the presentation," Rod said.

Wumblewort pursed his lips.

"You are the age of consent, so therefore you can choose whether or not to meet with the Professor as he requests, Mr. Dormers," the wizard said.

"The letter doesn't say what he wants?" Rod inquired.

"No, it doesn't. Only that you will go with him someplace. It doesn't say where or when you will return. As you know, Professor Snape is a very famous wizard. I find it odd that he wishes to see you. As far as I know, he's turned down many requests made by important people to see him. I am quite curious to know what he wants with you," the Headmaster said, his eyes still narrowed.

"I really don't know, sir," Rod said, honestly at a loss, "But I'll see him and find out."

"He'll meet you at the head of the dungeon corridor at ten on Saturday morning," the Headmaster said, rather miffed that Snape wasn't going to come to his office. "I expect you to tell me where you went and what you did upon your return. You may be of age, Mr. Dormers, but you are still my responsibility as long as you attend Hogwarts."

"Yes sir," Rod said, feeling this was a bit of an imposition. If Professor Snape wanted the Headmaster to know what he wanted, he would have included it in the letter.

Wumblewort studied him for a moment, then said, "You may go, Mr. Dormers."

"Thank you sir," Rod said, rising and exiting the office.

The Headmaster looked down at the mysterious letter again, frowning.

"What in the world does he want with that boy?" he mused, hating to feel out of the loop especially when someone as important as Severus Snape was involved. Well, he'd find out when Rod returned.

* * *

"Harry, you can talk about Professor Snape now," Hermione said to the wizard.

She had received a message from him via Eli asking her to come and release him from the Oath protecting the Potions master. She quickly contacted Bartleby, then apparated to Harry's house. Now they were sitting in his kitchen, magic swirling around them as the Oath was broken.

"Whew, thanks Hermione," Harry said, "You have no idea how much trouble I got into at the press conference the other day when I couldn't answer any questions about the Professor or give my thoughts on him. The Minister was furious."

Hermione scowled.

"Was the Professor there?" Hermione asked him.

Harry nodded.

"Yep. He was enjoying it too. Had on his old smirk from school," Harry said, shaking his head, "I don't think he's changed that much, Hermione. He loved seeing me get blasted by Utterton."

"Ooh, he could have told me," Hermione seethed.

"He probably didn't think about it again, Hermione. I bet he has a lot on his mind," the Auror said.

Hermione looked at Harry. He didn't know the half of it. She was one of those things on the wizard's mind. Ginny brought over some tea and cakes, then sat down, looking at her husband.

"So you can say the name Snape now?" she asked him, her brown eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Yes, I can," Harry said, scowling at her.

Ginny had laughed when she found out what happened. She really tried not to though. Harry was her husband and she was supposed to be sympathetic and supportive of him at all times, but damn . . .

"That's good," she chuckled, smiling at Hermione, who quirked her lips in an attempt not to smile back at the red-haired witch.

Everyone poured a spot of tea and sipped it companionably, Hermione having a familiar faraway look in her eyes that both Harry and Ginny noticed. It was her "I have a situation that I really don't know how to talk about" look.

She picked up a cake and absently bit into it.

"All right, Hermione. Something is going on. What?" Harry said to her, adjusting his glasses as if he could focus in on her better if they were higher up on the bridge of his nose.

"What?" Hermione said, trying to sound as if she didn't know what he was talking about.

Ginny shook her head.

"Come on, Hermione. It's easy to see something's disturbing you. Is it Rose? She had a really close call," the witch said to her softly.

"No, it's not Rose," Hermione said hesitatingly, then she looked at Ginny.

"Ginny, do you think it's too soon to feel . . . feel interested in someone else?" Hermione asked the witch. She was Ron's sister. If anyone's opinion mattered it would be hers.

Hermione never would have asked Molly this question. She would have gone into meltdown.

Ginny blinked at Hermione.

"Why?" she asked the witch, her brow furrowed.

"I . . . I just want your opinion," Hermione said, looking uncomfortable as Harry studied her.

Ginny looked at her. Ron had been dead for two years now, and Hermione as far as she knew, did nothing but work all the time. She wasn't an old witch either. She had been married to Ron for years and was probably very lonely. It had to be hard for her being alone when she was used to having someone in her life.

"I think . . . I think that would depend on the person in mourning," Ginny said carefully, "Some people like mum, can't seem to move past someone being gone forever, but it's different for her than for you, Hermione. Ron was her child. She will always be his mother. You're no longer his wife, because he's gone now. You're his widow. In essence, you're a single woman again, Hermione. Ron is never coming back."

"Are you interested in someone, Hermione?" Harry asked his friend.

Hermione's eyes shifted back and forth.

"I'm not sure. But someone is interested in me," she said softly.

"Who?" Harry asked, wondering who Hermione came in contact with enough for . . .

Suddenly Harry's eyes widened.

"Oh Hermione. You have to be yanking my broom. Professor Snape?" he gasped at her.

Ginny went a bit pale herself as Harry's statement sunk in.

Hermione didn't answer verbally, but the flush that covered her face screamed volumes.

"Oh my gods," Ginny said, covering her mouth, "It is Professor Snape. Are you sure, Hermione? Has he made a pass at you or something?"

Harry frowned as he thought about Hermione being trapped at the worksite and Snape taking advantage of the situation.

"Did he?" the wizard asked her darkly.

"No. No, nothing like that. But he wanted to know if I would ever be open for another relationship," Hermione replied, deciding not to mention the stolen kiss.

"Sounds like a pass to me," Harry said under his breath.

"No Harry. Actually, he is rather nice in a snarky kind of way. We spend one night a week together talking about the latest developments in Charms and Potions, discussing and debating them. Once in a while we have dinner together. It's purely platonic and it really is nice to have intelligent company," Hermione said, then colored as she realized by adding the word "intelligent' she had effectively insulted both Harry and Ginny.

Ginny smirked. She knew Hermione didn't mean that the way it sounded. She also knew Hermione's idea of "discussing" anything she was passionate about was more like having a row. Things were probably rocking up at Sparse Venues when those two got together.

"It might have been platonic, but if he asked you that, Hermione, he doesn't want it to remain that way. He wants to shag you," Harry said flatly.

Both Hermione and Ginny scowled at him. Leave it to a wizard to slide right past all the emotional issues and straight to the four-poster.

"That's not so, Harry. He even said it wasn't, because honestly, that's what I thought too," Hermione said vehemently, "The Professor has used a brothel to take care of his needs over the years. Now, how did he say it? Oh, he said, 'Sex can be purchased like a bit of candy from a sweet shop. What I desire is not anything that can be bought.'"

Ginny's eyes softened a bit at this statement. It was quite reassuring.

Harry snorted.

"That's a line, Hermione. A good one, but still a line," he said.

"I don't think the Professor does 'lines,' Harry. I believe he's an honest wizard. He doesn't fawn all over me or constantly tell me how attractive I am. I think if he wanted to just get into my knickers he'd be doing more of that," Hermione said as Ginny nodded in agreement.

Harry was torn. He felt Professor Snape was a good man, but still, wanting Hermione? Well, one thing was obvious. Snape was definitely over his mother. And that was what Harry had wanted for him, wasn't it? To let go of the ghosts of his past so he could live a normal or semi-normal life. He just didn't think the wizard would focus on Hermione.

"How do you feel about him, Hermione?" Ginny asked her softly.

Hermione sighed.

"Well, he is wonderful company Ginny, and you know something? I think the reason he went public was because I wanted Rod Dormers to be released and the boy wouldn't talk to anyone. The Professor knew he'd be able to get through to him so sacrificed his solitude to help him. I know he did that for me," Hermione said, "That was so unselfish of him. He didn't have to do that . . . but he did."

"He did give you a good job too," Ginny said thoughtfully.

"I know. But I don't think he did it to get at me. He did it because he wanted someone stable to work for him, someone he knew who could do the job," Hermione replied, "It didn't start out with him being interested. It's just . . . just something that happened over time."

Harry listened, his scowl lessening.

"Hermione, you've said what he's done for you, but not how you feel about him personally," the wizard stated, "Do you like him?"

Hermione looked at Harry.

"Yes. I do like him, Harry. He's brilliant. He's challenging. He's kind though he tries to hide that aspect of himself. And it's easy to see he wants love in his life. I could hear it in his voice when he talked to me," she said softly. "He's not looking for a shag, Harry. He's looking for someone he can connect to, who he can love who will love him back."

Ginny let out a sigh. It was all so . . . so romantic. A Dark Wizard Searching for Love. It sounded like a romance novel.

"But . . but it's Professor Snape, Hermione," Harry said again, shaking his head slightly. It was hard to imagine the cold, snarky wizard wanting love, even if all he did for the Greater Good was because he loved Lily.

"I know, Harry. It's all so strange, but not strange at all," she replied, her face softening as she thought about the pale wizard scowling at her.

Harry looked at Hermione. He could see clearly that she did like the Professor. Ron's words to her came back to him. Ron would want her happy, even if it were with Snape.

"Well," he said slowly, "If you really feel something can come of it, Hermione and are attracted to him, I guess it wouldn't hurt to explore it a little. Snape. Good grindelows. At least we know you look below the surface."

Ginny slapped Harry's shoulder hard.

"Harry!" she exclaimed at him.

"Ow!" Harry said, rubbing his shoulder exaggeratedly, "You have to admit he hasn't gotten any better looking over the years."

"Looks aren't everything," Ginny replied, "There's character and substance too. He has all that and more.

Hermione smiled as the two began to argue. To Hermione, the Professor looked just fine. Yes, he didn't have classic good looks, but there were things about him that were very attractive just the same. And things about him that were . . . frightening as well. She couldn't even let herself think about the possibility of intimacy with the wizard. If she pursued this however, it was bound to come up sooner or later.

For the first time in two years, Hermione felt a little pulse inside her. It wasn't anything major, but it was definitely a physical response to the idea of sex. Hermione had enjoyed sex with Ron. He was loving, he was good and above all he was fun. There had been quite a few naked romps in their marriage, Ron chasing her through the house in his altogether and tackling her. Once he even chased her outside and pulled her under the shrubberies. What a night that had been, much of the encounter spent trying to keep the neighbors from hearing them. The flats were quite close.

Oh Ron.

She couldn't imagine the Potions master chasing her anywhere. He was too reserved and dignified for such antics, she could tell. No, he wasn't Ron, but he still had his own appeal as a man, an appeal she was beginning to feel. Now that she had talked to someone about it, the situation was much easier to think about. Harry had pretty much given his blessing and although Hermione really didn't need it, she was glad he understood. Ginny was receptive as well and she was Ron's sister.

She listened to the two of them argue, picking up another cake and enjoying the squabble.

* * *

Rod tossed and turned in his bed, having a hard time getting to sleep. He had not one but two big shocks today. The first being Rose agreeing to go to the dance with him, and the second finding out the famous Severus Snape was coming to retrieve him for some mysterious reason on Saturday. Him. Rod Dormers.

Gods, how his life had changed since he'd found that stone. He was glad to be rid of it and Lord Voldemort, but still some good had come out of the experience.

Rod flipped over on his stomach and sighed. He wished he knew a spell that would put him to sleep, but he didn't. So he just lay there, listening to himself breathe. Rose was supposed to leave the infirmary tomorrow.

He hoped he didn't act like an idiot when they got together. He didn't want her to regret agreeing to go to the dance with him. He just had to make a good impression.

He just had to.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	43. Dinner at Julwyn's

**Chapter 42 Dinner at Julwyn's**

Rose was released on Friday, but Madame Peabody didn't let her go until after seven, hoping it was late enough for the witch to actually get some rest. Rose was less than appreciative of her final meal of gruel, Hugo being barred from the infirmary because the medi-witch discovered a half-eaten roast beef sandwich that had worked its way from under the pillow while Rose was asleep, landing on the floor. Even though Rose didn't dime him out, it wasn't hard for the medi-witch to figure out where the sandwich came from.

Madam Peabody's intentions were meant well, but Rose was greeted with a party when she returned to Gryffindor tower, her housemates having procured food and even Butterbeer in celebration of her return. She was welcomed back with cheers and heavy pats on the back, and she couldn't help but be moved by everyone's reaction.

When she returned to Gryffindor tower, she was given a parchment sent from her mother. It said she would be picking her up at ten tomorrow to go to Hogsmeade and pick out a dress for the dance. That was great. She was supposed to meet her mother at the head of the dungeon corridor. She'd be there with bells on.

Roland was particularly happy about the witch's return, and though it took a while for him to get her alone, he eventually cornered the witch.

"Hi Rose," he said solicitously as she sat in an armchair, "I'm glad you're back. Damn Slytherins."

"Hey Roland," she responded half-heartedly as he took the chair next to her, his brown eyes focused on the witch intently.

Roland wasted no time moving in.

"Listen Rose, I want to take you to the Christmas dance," he said, making it more of a declaration than a question.

Rose blinked at him a moment.

"Oh, thank you Roland, but . . . but I already have a date," she informed him.

The young wizard's eyebrows drew together blackly.

"Who asked you?" he demanded, wanting to know who had the balls to approach her. He thought he had made it clear to everyone that Rose was off-limits.

"Well, Rod Dormers is taking me," she said softly.

Roland looked at her incredulously.

"A Slytherin?" he said angrily.

"It doesn't matter that he's in Slytherin, Roland. He's really nice and hasn't been to a dance yet. It's the least I can do, considering he saved my life," Rose said, hoping to defuse the angry young wizard.

"I would have saved you if I knew what was going on," Roland said jealously. It didn't matter to him that he had none of the skills to pull such a save off. He just didn't want Rose thinking Rod was anything special.

"I know Roland," Rose responded uncomfortably. She knew the wizard couldn't have done a thing even if he did know what was happening.

Roland stared at her for a moment, knowing Rose agreed to go with Rod just because he saved her. So the fuck what? He was a nobody as far as Roland was concerned. He used to buffet the Slytherin around like he was nothing and the wizard never stood up to him. He was a coward. Roland bristled.

"Well, if Rod can't take you, will you go with me?" he asked the witch.

Rose studied the wizard.

"I'm pretty sure we're going to go together, Roland, but I guess if he backs out, I'll go with you," she responded.

"All right then," he growled, standing up. "I'll talk to you later."

He stalked off. Hugo seemed to materialize beside his sister, scowling after the big wizard.

"Roland's a real ass," he said to his sister. He had heard their conversation. "Rod's not going to back out. He likes you."

Rose looked at her brother.

"I don't know that he likes me like that, Hugo," she said to him.

"He does," Hugo replied, "I can see he does. He's not going to back out."

Rose looked a bit apprehensive.

"I don't know, Hugo. Roland might confront him," she said.

Hugo scowled.

"If he does, Rod will kick his ass," he replied, his face screwed up, "He's a strong wizard, sis."

"Yeah, but he didn't really ask me to the dance, Hugo. You did. It could be he'll back down," she said to her brother.

"I don't think so, sis. He's not a pussy," Hugo replied.

Rose didn't reply. Roland was quite imposing. It could be Rod wouldn't be willing to face off with him. She couldn't blame him really if that was the case. But she sort of hoped he would stand his ground if it came to that. He really was nice and she'd like to go to the dance with him.

* * *

Rod had lingered around the Main Hall for quite a while that evening, waiting to see if Hugo or Rose showed. They didn't, so he retired to his room. Probably the medi-witch let Rose out late or decided to let her go Saturday instead of Friday. Now he lay in the bed thinking about tomorrow morning. He was supposed to meet Professor Snape.

He still had no idea why the wizard wanted to see him, but was sure it was some important reason. The dour wizard didn't seem like someone who would waste his time. Rod figured if he didn't like the reason, he could just decline to go with him. He wasn't required to after all.

He lay on his back in the four-poster, dressed only in his boxers, his arms folded behind his head, thinking about Rose and Hugo planning on teaching him how to dance. He was a bit apprehensive about it, but decided to try and give it his all since they were so determined to help him. He wanted Rose to have a good time after all.

After an hour or two, the wizard fell into a restless sleep, dreaming about stepping on Rose's toes as he tried to follow her steps.

* * *

Hermione finished dressing. She wore a long sleeved, cream colored woolen dress with a scooped neck. It was pretty cold out and the dress would keep her warm. She drew on a pair of stockings, then clasped a pretty gold necklace Hugo and Rose had given her a couple of Christmases ago around her neck. A small lioness dangled from it with glittering eyes. She swept up her hair and clipped it in place with a sparkly gold and cream colored clip, then slipped in a pair of gold earrings. She touched up her lips with a little lipstick and that was it.

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. She looked nice though still more rounded than she would have liked, despite working out regularly. She was tempted to put on another slimming spell but didn't. The Professor made it clear he didn't find that necessary. She didn't want the night to start out with a lecture.

She checked the clock, then picked up her winter traveling cloak, transfiguring it so it matched her dress, then put it on. She was ready to go. She walked into the living room and sat down, waiting for the Potions master to arrive.

* * *

The Potions Master put on his black traveling cloak, hood down and studied himself in the mirror. His hair was well-brushed and rather silky looking. How long it would actually stay that way was questionable, but it looked nice for now. If he made an effort, he probably could develop a conditioner that would make his fine black locks appear less lank, but why bother. Lank was what it was.

He made a little sneer, curling his top lip and wrinkling his large nose slightly.

Perfect.

He smirked. That would get Hermione even more riled up during their meal this evening. With a billow of robes, he exited his bedroom, then his home, apparating to the worksite and letting himself in.

Hermione started at the knock on the door, smoothed her cloak then walked over and opened it. The Professor stood there, looking at her a bit critically.

"You seem to be your proper proportions tonight," he said, "I was afraid that I might be construed as accompanying an anorexic to dinner tonight."

Hermione scowled and walked past him, her nose in the air.

"Oh, the glamour wasn't that bad last time, Professor," Hermione said to him as he closed the door and followed her, smirking at her back.

He was glad she didn't feel the need to glamour herself tonight. It showed she was becoming more comfortable with being herself around him. More progress. He caught up to Hermione and slipped his arm through hers.

"I am your escort," he said as she looked up at him, "so stop skittering away."

"I wasn't skittering," she snapped at him, still mad about the anorexic remark, "I was just walking."

Snape looked down at her.

"You look quite presentable," he remarked, his eyes drifting over the cream-colored cloak. "We make quite the contrast."

"All you ever do is wear black and white," Hermione said back to him. "It wouldn't kill you to add some color to your wardrobe. At least your shirt."

They stopped at the foyer to wait for the voice to identify them and let them out.

"It makes no sense to do that. My robes are always properly buttoned. Besides, what color shirt would you prefer to see me in than a crisp white? Pink? Or perhaps a lurid fluorescent green?" he asked her as they stepped out into the cold air.

For a moment Hermione was tempted to whip out her wand and turn his entire ensemble a glaring yellow-orange, but she fought the impulse.

"Maybe a light blue, or even cream," she responded as Snape pulled up his hood.

Suddenly the wizard pulled her close to his lean body so she gasped.

"I wouldn't want you to splinch. I would hate to spend half the night looking for the pieces," he purred, disapparating with the witch.

They reappeared on a street corner. Street lamps flickered, the flames reflected in several closed shop windows. People walked past them, conversating in quiet tones. The street was made of cobblestone.

"This way," the hooded Snape said, leading Hermione up the sidewalk, reading the numbers on the buildings they passed.

Hermione didn't ask him why he was wearing his hood. It was obvious. Although the restaurant might afford them some protection from the public, approaching it was another story. He would be sure to draw unwanted attention. Hermione shuddered to think what the wizard's reaction would be to people walking up to him and asking for autographs. His "hero" image would be short-lived. It was better he was hooded.

"Here it is. Julwyn's," Snape said, stopping in front of a small building with unassuming stone façade, a heavy, gleaming wooden door with lit sconces on either side of it. A simple wooden sign with the word "Julwyn's" hung above it. Snape opened the door and escorted Hermione in.

They entered a foyer, where there was counter on one side and a clerk to take cloaks. On the other side was a podium behind which stood a smartly dressed wizard with slick black hair, a pencil mustache, and sharp dark eyes. A book rested on the top of the podium. Beautiful Muggle paintings graced the lobby walls. A light curtain separated this area from the dining area.

Snape and Hermione approached the counter, Snape drawing down his hood. If the clerk recognized him, she didn't show it as she smiled and took his cloak, then Hermione's. She gave them both a ticket. Snape took Hermione's as well as his own, placing them in his robes pocket. Then they approached the podium. The wizard smiled at them.

"Welcome to Julwyn's, Professor Snape. My name is Rudolph and I am the maitre'd. Your table is waiting and I hope you and your lovely companion enjoy your dining experience with us," the wizard said with a bow. He moved from behind the podium.

"Follow me please," he said to the couple.

The wizard strode through the curtain, Hermione and Snape following and passing through the main dining room. It seated about twenty-five patrons. Rich Persian carpets were in evidence. Damask table-clothes, hand-painted china dishes, crystal glasses and silverware rested on the tables as well as centerpieces in handmade ceramics or candles set in Murano glass.

Lovely murals covered the walls and the patrons spoke in muted tones as they enjoyed their meals. There were about fifteen diners present. Soft classical music lilted in the background. Rudolph led them into a semi-private dining area, where four other couples were enjoying a meal. He walked up to a table and pulled out a chair for Hermione to sit down, while Snape drew up his own chair.

"Your appetizer will be out shortly. Would you like to see the wine list?" Rudolph asked the wizard.

"It's not necessary. I would like a Spanish Cava with the appetizer, Riesling with the entrée and a Port with dessert." Snape said, then he looked at Hermione. "What would you like to drink with your meal, Hermione?"

Hermione was out of her element here.

"Um . . . I'll try the wine that you're having, and would like a glass of sparkling water with lemon," she said, just in case she didn't like the wine.

"Very good," Rudolph said, "The appetizer will be out shortly. Again, enjoy your meal."

The wizard strode off smartly.

Hermione looked at Snape appreciatively.

"You certainly seem to know your wines," the witch said.

"It is a simple matter of knowing what goes with what. With the smoked trout salad, a wine that cleans the palate is in order. The braised duck will have a slightly sweet taste because of the currants, so a drier wine is in order, and a sweet wine should always accompany a sweet dessert, the main qualification that it actually be sweeter than the dessert itself to be fully enjoyed," he said knowledgably.

"Ron drank Butterbeer with everything," Hermione said with a wistful smile, "Not that we ever went anyplace as fancy as this. He probably would have ordered it here just the same, along with fish and chips."

"Mr. Weasley was a true man of the earth," Snape replied with a slight smirk. "There is something to be said for knowing what one appreciates."

His dark eyes flicked over Hermione for a moment, then a waiter arrived with their appetizer and wine. The salad rested on top of an arrangement of endive and rocket, and consisted of chickpeas, goat cheese, onions and flaked, moist smoked trout, topped with grilled red pepper strips. It looked absolutely delicious. It was accompanied by a light honey-lime dressing. Neither Snape nor Hermione used the dressing, finding the salad delicious as is.

"Oh, this is so good," Hermione said, sipping a bit of wine with her meal.

Snape looked over his plate at her.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," he said to the witch, then returned to his food.

The couple finished their salads and their wine. A waiter came and cleared away their plates. The entrée would be out soon.

"We have to stop at Hogwarts tomorrow to pick up Rose," Hermione said to the wizard, "She has to have her gown fitted."

Snape nodded.

"I must pick up Mr. Dormers as well," he said to the witch, whose eyes went wide.

"You're taking him to Hogsmeade?" she asked him.

"Didn't I just say that?" Snape snarked at her, "Of course. How am I to buy him proper dress robes if he isn't present? Even the finest robes could hang off of him like rags if they aren't tailored."

Hermione scowled at his snarkiness and turned on a little of her own.

"Well, you two are going to have to go off on your own. He can't see what Rose is going to be wearing," she snapped at him.

Snape eyed her and snorted.

"I have never understood a witch's belief that a wizard seeing her in an article of clothing beforetime will cause some kind of world cataclysm. It's insane," he said.

Hermione frowned at him. He was so . . . dense for such an intelligent man.

"It is not insane. We do that so when we make an entrance, you'll be more appreciative," she said to Snape, whose nose wrinkled.

"If a wizard is attracted to a witch, she could make an entrance in a burlap sack wearing corncobs for earrings and he'd still be appreciative," he declared as the waiter brought their entrée.

"Oooh, you have no sense of romance at all!" she said to the wizard.

Snape's face sobered.

"I'm doing my best to work on that shortcoming, Hermione," he said softly, "It is an area in which I need much help. Perhaps . . . you will help me one day."

Hermione blushed and looked down at her plate as the wizard continued to look at her.

"The duck looks delicious," she said weakly, picking up her knife and fork.

Looking at Hermione with her face flushed and eyes shining, Snape was tempted to say the duck wasn't the only thing at their table that looked delicious, but he didn't.

"Enjoy it," he said, cutting into his own.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Snape had fully intended to whip out the article by now, but for some reason didn't.

"Concerning Mr. Dormers," he ventured.

Hermione looked up, interested.

"I wonder what his plans are after he leaves Hogwarts," the wizard mused.

Hermione shook her head.

"I have no idea. I know he didn't do that well grade-wise. He'll probably have to get some low-level job. A shame really. If he had a leg up earlier, he most likely would have done much better in school," she said.

Snape chewed his duck thoughtfully.

"He does have experience taking care of plants and grounds," he said, "And I am expanding my fields this spring. Perhaps I should offer the boy a job."

Hermione blinked at the wizard.

"A job? At Sparse Venues?" she asked him.

"No. A job at the local market. You are exasperating at times, witch," he snapped. "It's hard to believe there's actually a brain in that pretty little head sometimes."

Hermione was a bit taken aback when he told her she was pretty, but that didn't stop her from reading him the riot act. Several patrons were looking at her as she ripped into the wizard for being so rude. At one point Snape feared she was going to hit him with her entrée.

"All right. All right. I'm sorry," he hissed at her, "Now stop making a spectacle or yourself or acting surprised at what I say to you. Dunderheadedness always aggravates me. That hasn't changed. Where else would the boy work?" he said to her.

Hermione glared at him.

"You still could hold your tongue, Professor. You don't have to comment on everything," she said in a calmer voice.

"I'm a sarcastic, acerbic bastard, Hermione. That hasn't changed either and most likely never will," he replied. "It is an integral part of who I am. Responding to perceived idiocy is like breathing, witch. Add to that I haven't had much opportunity to do so in the past twenty years and you have a recipe for extreme derisiveness. Again, I'm sorry."

Hermione looked at the wizard. It really was just the way he was. The witch sighed.

"Oh, just forget it, Professor," she said, "But that would be wonderful if you gave Rod a job. He's all alone in the world."

"I will talk to him about it tomorrow," the wizard said, finishing his food.

Hermione watched Snape through her lashes, again thinking what a wonderful man he really was. Even if he was a sarcastic acerbic bastard most of the time.

He wasn't all of the time, and that's what truly mattered.

They never did get around to debating the article, but talked about Rod a bit more and the Professor's plans for the next planting season and how he intended to utilize Hermione's work. By the end of the meal, Hermione was sated, full and a little bit sleepy from the wine.

"Oh, that was a wonderful meal, Professor. Thank you so much," she said, smiling at him.

Snape was quite pleased with the meal himself. It had gone rather well, even the rough parts. Hermione had truly enjoyed herself with him and that was what he wanted.

"Thank you for accompanying me," he said, settling the bill.

They retrieved their cloaks and exited into the night, Hermione feeling very tired and happy as they walked arm and arm to the apparition point.

"You seem quite tired," Snape said to the witch, whose head was resting on his arm as they walked. He liked the way she felt against him.

"I am. The food, the wine, the conversation. It wore me out, but I feel wonderful," she said softly.

"Then the night was a success," he said to her, gathering the witch close and apparating.

They appeared in front of the worksite and Snape walked Hermione to the door. He released her and the witch looked up at him.

"This has been the most enjoyable night I've experienced in twenty years, Hermione," he said to the witch softly, "and it's because of you. Again I say you are an extraordinary witch."

"Thank you," Hermione replied.

Snape hesitated, a question in his eyes. Hermione felt as if a gaggle of lacewings flies had suddenly materialized in her belly at the way the wizard was looking at her.

"This time, I wish to ask your permission," he said silkily, "May I kiss you good night, Hermione?"

Hermione looked into those dark eyes and saw vulnerability in their depths. He didn't want to be rejected, and she didn't want to reject him.

"Yes, Professor. You may kiss me," she said softly.

Snape studied her for a moment, then leaned in and gently captured her lips, moving his own against them sensuously. Dear gods, it was so sweet, so tender. He lingered over her mouth for a few seconds then slowly drew away, his dark eyes resting on her face. Hermione's eyes were closed and her lips still slightly puckered.

"Thank you," he breathed.

Hermione opened her eyes. They were soft and liquid as she looked at him. The wizard swallowed, then straightened quickly as the door to the site opened.

Hermione started as the light hit them, then regained her composure.

"You're welcome, Professor," she said softly, "Thank you again for tonight."

Snape watched as Hermione slowly walked inside. She turned to look at him as the voice announced her arrival, then the door swung closed.

The wizard stood there a moment. Kissing Hermione with her consent had been wonderful and heartening. She wanted him to kiss her. He wouldn't have minded a few more sweet kisses from the witch. He wouldn't mind something more. How would it be to have her intimately?

He didn't know if he would ever find out.

But it didn't mean he wouldn't try. Hermione had just significantly upped the ante by letting him kiss her.

How could he help but want more?

The wizard turned and disapparated to his home.

It had been a stellar night.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	44. Realizations and Confrontations

**Chapter 43 Realizations and Confrontations**

As Hermione walked back to her room, she felt as if she were in a kind of surreal dream, she slowly opened the door to her apartment and let herself in, still feeling the effects of the Potions master's kiss.

In appearance, it had only been a short, simple kiss. Nothing outrageous or remotely inappropriate. He had been a gentleman and did not try to take the slightest advantage of her acceptance.

But, Hermione had never been kissed that way before. Ron was a good kisser. He could be gentle, tender and passionate. His kisses were either sweet and appreciative, or very hungry. There were differences that she could feel in her husband's kisses that clearly told her his mood.

But the Professor's kiss. It was so . . . gentle, yet she felt as if he had taken her mouth away from her and made it his own in that instance. His lips were soft, warm, teasing and seemed to ask for more . . . no, not ask, tempt. He had a tempting kiss, the kind of kiss a witch would want to continue on and on.

How could someone as hard and apparently cold as Professor Snape, have a kiss so gentle but so full of . . . what was it full of? Promise?

Hermione removed her cloak, unable to think about anything else but his lips and his eyes as he looked at her afterwards. They were also gentle, just for an instant before the door opened and he straightened, his usual demeanor resettling on his features as if to say, "I've returned to the man you know now."

There was so much about him that she didn't know. Yet she was starting to see it. The kindness and the heart beneath that stoic exterior.

As Hermione undressed for bed, her mind began to go someplace she had avoided going. It was the kiss that fueled it. The gentleness the wizard evidenced. Was he really a gentle man beneath all that harshness, that bite?

He was so different from Ron. Ron went at everything with an almost wild enthusiasm. When they made love, he could be gentle and tender, and often was, yet there were times Ron was quite ardent. But he was a fair-sized wizard sexually. His tool was nothing like what she witnessed swinging on the Professor in the shower. Ron always satisfied her however, and she always felt loved when he engaged her.

The Professor's kiss automatically led to her musing about how he was in other more intimate situations. Did that gentleness in his kiss carry over to his sex? Could it be that despite what nature gave him, he was a tender lover? He was careful and meticulous in everything he did. His brewing, his harvesting, even his words for the most part were carefully measured. Maybe he wasn't a monster in the sack. Maybe he knew how to make love to a woman without hurting her, how to be strong and sensual, like that kiss. That beautiful, passionate yet tender kiss.

Hermione felt a little warmth in her lower belly, and a touch of guilt because she didn't know if the warmth she felt inside her was because of her remembrance of Ron, or because of something that was awakening for the dark wizard who lived on the mountainside. It had been a long time for her.

Hermione pulled on her nightgown, lowered the lights and climbed into bed, sighing and rolling to her side. The bed seemed larger than usual and for the first time in a long time, she felt rather lonely in it. Missed having another presence.

To be honest, Hermione had been with Ron for almost more than half her life, and all of her adult life. She was used to having a companion, someone there beside her in the dark of night. After Ron's death, she adapted to sleeping alone, adjusted to not having a warm body stealing the covers off of her, or pulling the pillow over her head during his random bouts of snoring. It took time, but up to this point she had done pretty well accepting sleeping alone.

She had accepted that Ron was never coming back. Ever.

As she lay there in the semi-darkness, Hermione realized something. Something monumental. Tonight, she had made a connection with Severus Snape. Not a connection with him as a like-minded person, as a brilliant Professor, or even as a brave, selfless hero that she admired.

She had made a connection to Severus Snape as a man. A man who was searching for something real. A man who wanted someone to love who would love him in return.

Was she that someone? It was clear the wizard wanted her to be . . .

and the way she was beginning to feel inside, it was quite possible she wanted to be that someone as well. Ron said he didn't want her to be alone, and she realized she didn't want to be alone either.

Maybe it was time to give love another chance.

Maybe lightning would strike twice.

* * *

The next morning Rod saw Rose for the first time in the Great Hall, sitting at the Gryffindor table having breakfast with her housemates. Hugo was sitting next to her and gave him a friendly wave, nudging his sister, who looked up at him and smiled as he passed. Rod turned a bit red, gave a nervous smile back and hurried to the Slytherin table. He piled food on his plate to have something to do with his hands. 

At the other end of the Gryffindor table sat Roland, scowling at the exchange and snorting as Rod practically ran to the Slytherin table, red-faced. This is who Rose wanted to go to the dance with? He bet the Slytherin could hardly put two words together in front of the witch. He didn't know how he got the nerve to ask her to the dance, but he was going to lose that nerve.

And fast.

While they were eating, Headmaster Wumblewort announced that there would be a full staff meeting right after breakfast and all staff should report to the staffing room. Roland's eyes narrowed as he looked over at Rod. There wouldn't be any staff about. Even the caretaker Gronin had to attend the meeting. If he were going to confront the loser, this would be the time to do it.

Rod was dressed in his nicest set of transfigured robes. He figured he'd go wait for Professor Snape just before breakfast ended. He'd only have to wait fifteen minutes or so. Rose and Hugo had already left and the wizard finished his breakfast, then headed out to the Main Hall to wait by the dungeon entrance. He was quite nervous and hoped he didn't look it too much.

"Hey Dormers," a growly voice addressed him.

Rod, who had been standing near the suit of amour turned to see Roland standing about ten feet away from him. He didn't know who the wizard was by name, but remembered him because he used to push him around from time to time. He was a pretty big wizard. Almost six feet tall and broad-shouldered. Rod was about five-ten, though not badly built. He was lean but muscular. All his work around the castle by hand made him rather strong.

"Yeah?" Rod responded, looking at the wizard with a slight frown. "What do you want?"

"It's simple really. I want you to break your date with Rose Weasley to the Christmas dance. I would have asked her before you if she wasn't in the infirmary," the wizard said, his brown eyes glittering.

"She's already accepted," Rod said, tensing a bit.

"That doesn't matter. If you tell her you can't go, then she'll go with me," Roland said evenly.

"But, I can go," Rod responded, a clear frown on his face now.

"Not if your jaw's wired shut," Roland snarled, his fists curling up.

Rose and Hugo appeared on the stairs, Rose having returned to Gryffindor Tower to get her traveling cloak before she had to meet her mother. Both Weasleys froze as they saw Roland facing off with Rod.

"Oh no!" Rose said, hurrying down the stairwell and waiting impatiently for the next set of steps to swing over.

"Shit," Hugo swore, pacing impatiently.

"What? You want to duel over Rose?" Rod asked him.

"Yes. But not with wands. Man to man, Dormers, though I know I'm the only man here," Roland snarled, "Unless you're too much of a coward to put up your hands."

Several students had stopped and were watching the two wizards excitedly.

"Odd Rod's going to get his head bashed in," one Slytherin witch whispered to another gleefully.

"Good," the other witch responded, her eyes narrowed meanly.

Rod looked at Roland. He had to have thirty pounds on him. Clearly an advantage. Wands would have evened the odds. But it was clear Roland didn't want fair odds, and if Rod called him on his height and weight, he'd sound like he was scared.

He was a bit scared though. He'd never been in a physical fight before. He always avoided them.

He looked up and saw Rose descending the stairwell at a run, Hugo close behind her.

"Oh no," he thought as she ran between him and Roland.

"Roland, what are you doing?" Rose demanded of the wizard.

Roland looked down at her, then over at Rod with a nasty smirk.

"Your 'date' has something to tell you about the Christmas dance. About how he can't go with you," he said.

Rose slowly turned and looked at Rod.

"You don't want to go to the dance with me Rod?" she asked him, her eyes rather sad at this.

Hugo stood a short distance away, holding his breath.

"Don't be a pussy, Rod," he pleaded with the wizard in his mind, "Don't let that ape Roland run you off."

Rod looked at the disappointment on Rose's face, then back at Roland. Suddenly, he felt very angry.

"Yes. Of course I do, Rose," he replied firmly, giving Roland a clear "fuck you" look.

Roland turned red as fire as Rose smiled at Rod brightly. He wasn't afraid of Roland.

"Get out of the way, Rose," Roland growled. He was completely pissed.

Rose didn't move fast enough and he pushed her aside, the witch stumbling and almost falling.

It was as if the entire world slowed down when Rod saw this, and he launched himself at the surprised Roland with a roar.

The two wizards collided, crashing into the stone wall behind them and starting to grapple. The students all yelled and cheered, egging the two wizards on. A couple of wizards grabbed Rose who was screaming at them to stop.

Rod's initial effort was good, but not good enough. Roland had experience fighting and soon had the wizard against the wall, smashing him in the face. Rod desperately wrapped his arms around the bigger wizard's arms, tangling them up so he couldn't hit him again. Roland was slinging him about, but Rod held on tightly, trying to drag Roland down.

At that instance, the doors to the Main Hall opened and Snape and Hermione walked in. Hermione saw the fighting wizards and recognized Rod.

"Oh my gods! Stop them, Professor!" she cried as Roland slammed Rod bodily into the wall and punched him in the stomach.

Snape watched for a few seconds then strode forward and pulled Roland off of Rod.

"This altercation is ended," the dark wizard said, his black eyes glittering dangerously.

Roland stared at the wizard mutinously as everyone else gasped, recognizing the famous Professor Snape. Rose, Hugo and Hermione ran over to Rod, who had slid down the wall and was holding his stomach. Roland had slugged him good and he felt as if he wanted to vomit. He had a bruise under his eye too, and his lip was slightly split.

"It's ended for now," Roland snarled, backing away from Snape, "But it's not over until Dormers does what he's supposed to."

Roland pushed his way through the crowd of students and headed up the Main Stairwell. He didn't have a mark on him.

Snape looked at the students milling about.

"Don't you all have someplace to be?" he asked them, scowling blackly.

The students quickly scattered. The wizard smirked to himself. He still had it.

Rose, Hugo and Hermione had gotten Rod to his feet, Rose dabbing at his split lip with the sleeve of her robe.

"You did great, Rod," Hugo said proudly. "I told Rose you wouldn't back down."

Rod blinked at him.

"What happened?" Hermione demanded of the wizard, "Why were you fighting?"

Rod didn't answer her.

"Roland tried to make him break his date with Rose so he could take her," Hugo offered.

Snape walked up to Rod and studied his battered face.

"I take it you haven't had any self-defense courses," the wizard purred as he pulled out his wand and healed Rod's lip.

"No sir," the young wizard replied, "That was my first fight."

Snape arched an eyebrow at him.

"I think that was your first beating, Mr. Dormers. A fight requires at least two evenly matched individuals. You might as well have been a first year," he said, shaking his head slightly. "It's hard to believe you're a Slytherin. Fighting someone you know you can't overcome is definitely an act usually reserved for mindless Gryffindors."

Hugo, Rose and Hermione all scowled at the Potions Master, who then fixed Rod's robes.

"I see dress robes aren't all you need, Mr. Dormers," Snape said.

"Dress robes?" Rod repeated.

"Yes. I've decided to purchase you a set of dress robes for the Christmas dance," the dark wizard said. "It is your first dance is it not?"

Rose and Hugo looked at each other, then at their mother who smiled softly.

"Yes sir, it is," Rod said.

"As a Slytherin, especially a Slytherin who is escorting a Gryffindor to the dance, you have to make a good showing. It's a matter of House pride. As I told you before, Mr. Dormers, I too am a Slytherin and I will not have you lowering the standards of my house. Let us go," the wizard said, turning and stalking toward the door.

Rod followed.

"Come along Rose," Hermione said, following Rod and Snape.

Hugo stood there flabbergasted, then ran up to his mother.

"Mum, what are you doing with Professor Snape? He's famous!" the young wizard asked her excitedly.

"I work for him, Hugo. He owns Sparse Venues," she replied with a smile.

"He owns it? He put up the wards? Cool!" Hugo said, staring after the wizard with a rapt smile. "So you know him."

"I've known him for years, Hugo. He was my Professor when I went to Hogwarts," she told her son, "But I have to go. He's very impatient."

"All right. But when can I meet him, mum? I want to meet him," Hugo said.

"Probably over the Christmas holidays," Hermione said, kissing her son on the cheek, "Now I have to go Hugo. I will see you during the holidays."

"Bye mum!" Hugo said as she walked out the door and closed it behind her.

Hugo stood there a moment. This was really too cool. His mum worked for the most famous hero in the world. Professor Snape.

And Rod. How cool was he, fighting that big oaf Roland like that. He did get his ass kicked though, but he wasn't afraid. He stood up to him.

Hugo frowned as he turned and headed up the main stairs. Roland wasn't going to leave Rod alone about this unless Rod really taught him a lesson. The young wizard didn't like Roland, but he was a fellow Gryffindor. He couldn't take a Slytherin's side against a Gryffindor's. Not openly anyway.

Hm. He needed to talk to his cousin James. He was smart. Maybe he could think of some way to help Rod out.

Yeah, he'd do that.

Hugo began to take the stairs two at a time, hurrying to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	45. Shopping

**Chapter 44 Shopping**

Snape slowed so Hermione and Rose could catch up with he and Rod. Of course, the two students fell behind a bit, Rose walking beside Rod, who was silent as he strode across the grounds.

"Rod," she said, "I'm sorry about what happened with Roland."

"Yeah. Well, it's not your fault, Rose," he responded, not looking at her.

"But it kind of is. I told him that if you backed out of the date, then I would go with him," Rose said softly.

Rod looked at her with a slight frown.

"Did you think I was going to back out?" he asked her, his blue eyes a bit hard, "Or did you want me to back out? I still can you know. I know you probably only said yes because you felt sorry for me. How lame is it when a witch's brother asks her on a date for someone else anyway?"

Rod sounded so bitter, self-loathing in his voice as he addressed the witch walking beside him.

Rose frowned.

"No, that wasn't it at all, Rod. I thought . . . I thought you might have felt pressured to go with me. I know it was Hugo's idea for us to go together. I said yes because I thought it would be nice to go with you to your first dance. It wasn't because I felt sorry for you, Rod," she said to him, "But I was thinking about myself too. I told Roland I'd go with him just in case you had second thoughts and changed your mind. I didn't want to miss the dance. I'm really sorry. It was selfish of me."

Rod snorted.

"If there's one thing I understand Rose, it's selfishness. I'm in Slytherin, remember?" he said to the witch with a half-smile, "But what's between you and Roland that he tried to tear my head off?"

Rose sighed.

"He's liked me since the beginning of fifth year. I went with him to the Christmas dance then, and ever since, he's commandeered me for almost every dance afterwards. I didn't find out until a week or two ago that the reason no one else was asking me was because he threatened to beat them up," the witch said tremulously.

Rod thought this would have been good to know before Hugo jetted off to ask his sister to go to the dance with him. But how could she have told him about it, being in the infirmary as she was? Maybe she hoped that since he wasn't in Gryffindor house, Roland wouldn't confront him. Still, if the wizard went through so much trouble to keep other wizards away from Rose, he must feel something for her.

"Why aren't you going out with him?" Rod asked her.

Rose reddened.

"Well, actually I did go out with him for a week, but that was all I could take. He kind of smothered me. I couldn't do anything without him popping up," she said, "He didn't take the breakup well, either. I told him we could be friends. He doesn't seem to realize what that means though. He can be nice, but he's very jealous of me still."

Rod thought that was a bit of an understatement.

"You need to tell him that you're not interested in him like that, then. Maybe he won't beat on the next bloke to ask you out if you do that."

"I'm working up to it. I just don't want to hurt him," she said. "No matter how I do it, it's going to cause a scene."

Rod thought he didn't like getting hurt by Rose's stalker either, but he didn't say anything. He knew what it was like to want to avoid unpleasant situations and confrontations after all. He had done it the entire time he was at Hogwarts.

He fell silent.

Hermione unwarded the gates and opened them, walking through, followed by Severus and the children.

Snape studied Rod.

"Can you apparate?" he asked the boy.

"I haven't tried it since I got my new wand, but I failed the test last time I took it," Rod said, reddening.

"A good wand is necessary for proper apparition," the Potions master replied. "I suggest you arrange to take the test again as soon as possible."

He suddenly grasped Rod by the scruff of the neck, disapparating with the startled young Slytherin. Hermione shook her head and took Rose by the arm.

"Come on. We're going to meet them at the Three Broomsticks at one," she said to her daughter, who was staring at the empty space the Professor and Rod had occupied seconds before. He certainly had grabbed Rod roughly.

"Is Professor Snape always like that, mum?" she asked her mother, who smirked.

"Always," she replied, disapparating with her daughter.

* * *

Hermione and Rose apparated to Hogsmeade and proceeded to the dress shop. It was called "Brown's Gowns." It was a new establishment. Hermione thought they'd give it a look.

A little bell chimed when they entered and a tall, shapely and familiar witch appeared behind the counter. Hermione felt an uncomfortable little tightness in her belly when she saw her.

Lavender Brown.

"Hermione," Lavender purred, looking the witch over a bit critically.

Lavender had gone out with Ron for a little while when they were in their sixth year. She had never married and looked great. Hermione felt like a round little blob as she strode around the counter.

"Hello Lavender," Hermione said to the witch who gave her faux kisses on both cheeks then turned to Rose. Her eyes rested on the auburn hair. She hadn't seen Rose in years, the last time being at a Hogwarts reunion some time ago. She and Hugo were very little then, but she didn't forget their names.

"And this is your daughter Rose. How she's grown. It's obvious she has her father's genetics," Lavender said.

Rose was rather tall and slender. It was a snide little dig at Hermione too, who was short and had thickened over the years. Still, her attitude actually stemmed from jealousy. Lavender never really got over the fact Ron left her to return to the witch, then married her. It was as if Hermione stole him away.

"Yes. She's built very much like her aunt Ginny," Hermione agreed, doing her best to ignore the jibe. "We'd like to buy a gown for the Christmas dance."

Rose looked at Lavender with cool eyes. She didn't like her. But she wasn't here to like the witch. She was here to get a gown.

"We have some lovely gowns that just came in yesterday," Lavender said, walking over to a rack of lovely dresses. "Rifle through and see if there's anything that you like, dear."

Rose didn't say anything to Lavender, but walked over to the rack and began sifting through it. Lavender rested her blue eyes on Hermione.

"What are you doing these days, Hermione?" the witch fished, hoping that she wasn't doing too well. A woman scorned sometimes stays scorned. "I was sad to hear about Ron. He was a very special wizard."

"Yes, he was. And a good husband and father," Hermione replied, taking her own catty little dig at Lavender. "I'm working in the Charms field."

"Oh really? Did you have to go back to school? I understand you played housewife for a few years," the witch said, "That had to make you a bit rusty, didn't it?"

Hermione fought to keep from bristling. What the fuck did Lavender mean she "played" housewife?

"I stayed home to take care of my family," Hermione replied a bit curtly, "And after we lost Ron, I applied for a position and took a test that qualified me for the job. I didn't have to return to school, thank goodness."

"Oh. I see," Lavender said, her mouth turning down.

Hermione couldn't resist what she said next.

"Actually, I work for Sparse Venues. Professor Snape's company. You remember Professor Snape don't you?" she asked the witch rather sweetly, "The hero?"

Lavender looked at her wide-eyed. Did she remember him? He was the biggest news in the wizarding world right now.

"Yes I do. He just returned to the public. Did you know you were working for him?" Lavender asked her, impressed now.

"Yes I did," Hermione said smugly, "It was a terrible secret to know, but I managed to keep it to myself for quite a while."

"Mum! Come look at this dress," Rose called.

Hermione looked at Lavender.

"Excuse me. My daughter needs me," she said, walking away, Lavender looking after her, some of the wind knocked out of her robes.

Rose had taken a dress off the rack and was holding it up to herself. It was a beaded ball gown with a matching shawl. What was interesting about it was the color. It was brown.

"Mum, I really like this dress. I've never seen a brown ball gown. It's so different," the witch said.

It really was quite a pretty dress. Hermione knew that one of the main worries of any woman at a dance was that someone else would have on the same outfit.

"That's a one-of-a-kind," Lavender said, walking up to the witch. "The color works very well with your skin tone, but I'm afraid it's a bit . . . pricey. More than likely out of your mother's range. Why don't I show you some of our lower-priced gowns? Something that will better fit in your mother's budget."

Hermione scowled at Lavender as Rose's face fell.

"Lavender, you have no idea what my budget is," Hermione said to her, amber eyes narrowed.

Lavender gave her a smirk.

"There's no need for you to go into debt for a gown, Hermione. It has to be hard for a widow with two growing children to make ends meet," she said, trying to sound sympathetic rather than gloating.

"Actually, Lavender, I could probably buy your whole inventory," Hermione shot back. "How much is the gown?"

Lavender told her. Rose's eyes went wide as saucers when she heard the price. She started to put it back on the rack.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded of her daughter.

"That's a lot of galleons, mum. I can find something cheaper," Rose said, her eyes shining as she tried to swallow down her disappointment.

Hermione put her hands on her hips.

"Rose Weasley, don't you dare put that dress back!" Hermione said to her daughter, "Your whole life you've had to 'get something cheaper.' It's not like that any more. If you like that dress, we're going to get it. In fact, take it back to the fitting room right now!"

Rose broke out into a broad, disbelieving smile.

"Really mum?" she asked Hermione breathlessly.

"Really," Hermione replied smiling back at her. Rose launched herself at her mother and hugged her tightly, carelessly crushing the dress between them as her arms entwined around Hermione's neck.

"I love you, mum," she said, kissing her on the cheek, then flouncing off to the fitting room.

Lavender watched the exchange between mother and daughter silently and a bit enviously. It was obvious the little witch's life had turned out well and motherhood suited her. It was easy to see there was a lot of love in her family. Hermione was a blessed woman.

Hermione turned to look at her.

"Do a good job of fitting it, Lavender," she said to the witch. "This dance is important to my daughter."

"I will," Lavender replied in a subdued voice, then walked by her and entered the room behind Rose.

* * *

Professor Snape released Rod's neck and pulled up his hood quickly when they arrived at Diagon Alley. The young wizard rubbed the back of his neck sullenly, but didn't say anything as they headed for Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

The two wizards were silent as they walked, people looking at Snape curiously as he strode by. Presently, they arrived at the shop and entered. Robes of every color hung on racks. An older man with gray hair and gold wire framed glasses walked forward from behind the counter. He looked up at the hooded wizard and then at the young man beside him.

"May I help you sir?" the wizard asked him.

Apparently the shop had changed ownership. This was no mauve-robed Madam Malkin.

"Yes. But first I wonder if you might close your shop?" Snape asked the shopkeeper, who frowned slightly.

The shopkeeper's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Close my shop? Why?" he asked, his hand going to his robes pocket. If these two were robbers . . .

Snape lowered his hood.

"We'd like a bit of privacy," he said silkily as the wizard's eyes widened.

"My word! Mr. Snape! Oh yes sir. Right away, sir!" the shopkeeper said, hurriedly walking over to the door, turning the "Closed" sign around, drawing the shade and locking the door.

Grinning, he returned.

"My name is Camden, sir. Now how can I help you?" he asked the hero.

Imagine. Severus Snape in his shop. This was excellent. Excellent.

"Well Camden, this gentleman is in need of a set of dress robes," Snape replied, looking at Rod who was tentatively feeling the fabric of a set of blue robes with silver buttons. Snape walked up behind him and looked at the robes.

"Despite your dismal financial state, Mr. Dormers, you seem to have an eye for fine fabrics," the wizard commented.

"I just like the way it feels," Rod said.

"And the color?" Snape inquired, looking at the rich blue of the robes.

"Yes. I don't want to wear black . . . or green," he said with a bit of anger.

Snape arched an eyebrow. So Rod didn't want to wear his house colors. It was rather understandable. Snape looked at the shopkeeper.

"Bring several robes of this fabric and color," he said to the man, who bowed and disappeared in the back.

"Remove your robes, Mr. Dormers," Snape said.

Rod hesitated, then removed them, revealing a rather shabby white shirt and black trousers. Snape scowled.

Rod shrugged at him.

"I didn't know I'd be taking off my robes," the boy said.

"That is no excuse. You should always look presentable whether or not others will see it," Snape snapped.

The shopkeeper returned with several robes thrown over his arm, took one look at Rod and shook his head slightly. He seemed hesitant to put such fine robes over such shabby clothing.

"He needs shirts and trousers as well," Snape said to the wizard.

"He does at that," Camden agreed, his brow furrowed.

* * *

By the time Rod left Malkins, he had an entire wardrobe down to boxers and shoes. As he juggled all the packages, he looked up at the hooded Professor Snape.

"Not that I don't appreciate this, Professor, but why are you doing all this for me?" the wizard asked him.

Snape looked at him sidewise.

"As I told you before, I have my reasons, Mr. Dormers. Basically, you serve a purpose," the dark wizard replied.

Rod looked at him curiously.

"What kind of purpose?" he asked.

Snape smirked slightly.

"Let's just say you make me look . . . good, Mr. Dormers." he said shortly. "And in the process you are reaping the benefits of doing so. In essence I am giving you no more than you are giving me. It is a fair exchange."

Rod studied the wizard, trying to figure out how he made him look good. He dropped a package. Snape stopped, exasperated, then pulled out his wand and reduced the packages.

"I was waiting to see how long you'd fumble those around until you figured out you could use your wand and miniaturize them," the wizard said, shaking his head as Rod put the packages in his pocket.

"I . . . I didn't think about it," Rod said.

"Obviously not," Snape replied, "Come along, Mr. Dormers. We must get to Hogsmeade for lunch with the ladies."

Catching the wizard by the neck again, Snape disapparated.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	46. Lunch at the Three Broomsticks

**Chapter 45 Lunch at the Three Broomsticks**

Snape and Rod reappeared in Hogsmeade, a short distance from the Three Broomsticks. Again, Rod rubbed his neck and scowled at the hooded Professor.

"Er, Professor, would it be too much to ask that you catch me by my sleeve next time?" the young wizard inquired as they walked toward the inn.

"Yes," Snape replied, "Hopefully I will inspire you to put a rush on getting your license."

Rod fell silent as they walked side by side. Rose and Hermione were waiting outside of the Three Broomsticks, Rose holding a flowered shopping bag with pink tissue paper sticking out of it.

The witches both smiled as the wizards strode up.

"How did shopping go?" Hermione asked the Professor.

"Smoothly, as it usually does when witches aren't about examining every blasted item in the shop," the dark wizard replied, pulling the door to the inn open.

Hermione scowled at his comment and entered, followed by Rose. Rod attempted to follow Rose in but Snape held him back and entered next. He was not about to hold the door for him. Rod sighed, then followed.

Rosmerta was behind the bar. The innkeeper was older, but still quite pretty and shapely. She smiled when she saw Hermione, then looked a bit curious as her blue eyes washed over the tall hooded wizard behind her. She put down her bar rag, straightened her apron and walked around the bar.

"Hello Hermione. It is good to see you," she smiled at the witch, then looked at the entourage. A pretty young witch and a young wizard with a shiner accompanied her. "A table for four?"

"A private booth if you please," Snape said silkily from within the hood.

Rosmerta stiffened in shock. She knew that voice. She could never forget it. She moved closer, her voice dropping low as she looked into the hood. She couldn't see a face.

"Professor Snape?" she whispered.

"The same, Rosmerta," he replied.

She smiled at him brightly.

"Welcome back," she said warmly, "Come this way, all of you."

She led the group to the back of the inn and through a heavy blue curtain. A table with four chairs rested there. There were also four menus and a centerpiece of roses. Rosmerta quickly lifted them off and placed them on the window sill, remembering how much the Potions master despised the flowers.

They took their seats, Snape facing Hermione and Rose facing Rod. Snape lowered his hood.

"What would you like?" Rosmerta asked, pulling out a pad and a muggle pen.

She did her best not to stare at the Professor as she said this. It was good to see him after so many years. But this was not a social visit and she had to act professional.

Everyone picked up their menus and placed their orders. The two youngsters ordered fish and chips with flavored fizzy water. Hermione a large salad with meat and cheese and sparkling water and Snape ordered a rare steak with a side of fried potatoes and wine.

"Very good. Your meal will be out shortly," Rosmerta said, smiling and leaving the room.

Hermione looked at Rod, who was looking down at the table studiously.

"So did you get your dress robes, Rod?" the witch asked him, trying to pull the shy young wizard into conversation.

"Yes, I did," he replied shortly as Snape looked at him.

Rose looked curious.

"What color are they?" she asked.

Rod was about to answer her when Snape interrupted him.

"Don't answer that, Mr. Dormers," he snapped.

All three of them looked at the wizard.

"Why not?" Hermione asked the Potions master, surprised he would tell Rod to act so rudely. Well, not totally surprised, but still . . .

"Because, if he tells your daughter what color his robes are, he will 'ruin his entrance,'" the wizard replied, arching an eyebrow at him.

"That's ridiculous," Hermione snapped at him.

"Is it?" Snape replied, then his black eyes shifted to Rod.

"Mr. Dormers, ask Miss Weasley what color her gown is," he said to the young man.

Rod's eyes shifted from the Potions master to Rose curiously.

"What color is your gown?" he asked the witch.

Rose stared at him, reddening slightly.

"I can't tell you that. You'll see the night of the dance," she responded as Hermione sighed.

Rod blinked at her.

Snape smirked.

"What you have just witnessed, Mr. Dormers, is a witch-wide conspiracy to keep their garments secret at any and every cost. This happens on almost every formal occasion. I believe they all take a blood oath not to reveal anything about their clothing from the tender age of at least five years old," the wizard said as Rose and Hermione both scowled at him.

"Why?" Rod asked, intrigued.

Snape shrugged.

"Just one of the strange and mysterious customs of the fairer sex. And I warn you, there are many of them. No man alive has ever managed to even skim the surface of the depths of their many idiosyncrasies and behaviors," he replied as Rosmerta reappeared with their drinks and a bowl of pretzels.

"Oh really Professor," Hermione said, frowning at him, "You act as if witches purposely do things to keep wizards off balance or something."

"You do," the wizard said, taking a sip of wine, "We are forever kept guessing what the hell we've done wrong, thus distracted from really seeing just what you are all up to. I personally believe all witches discuss wizard control tactics at clandestine coven meetings."

Both Rod and Rose smirked at this. Hermione's face went black.

"You are a Neanderthal, Severus Snape," she snapped at him.

He arched an eyebrow at her, unable to resist his next response.

"Am I, Mrs. Weasley? And where do you suppose I keep my club?" he purred at her, his dark eyes sparkling mischievously.

Hermione blushed furiously.

Rose looked from her mother to the wizard and back again, her mouth dropping open. That was definitely a sexual innuendo. She didn't know much, but she knew that much. What was going on here?

Rod suddenly realized his purpose as he looked from Hermione to Snape. The Potions master was using him to impress her with his kindness. Well, it seemed he needed all the help he could get. Professor Snape was really snarky.

"You keep it in your cave with your bats and bones," Hermione retorted, trying to cover up the double meaning of his reply. She was still red however.

The Potions master smirked, but didn't say anything.

Rose looked at him curiously, then her mother.

"Mum, did you know you were working for Professor Snape?" she asked her mother suddenly.

Hermione looked at her daughter, whose eyes were narrowed suspiciously. She rightly suspected her mother had been keeping a few secrets.

"Not at first," Hermione admitted, "But I figured it out."

"When?" Rose asked her, frowning slightly.

Snape interceded.

"Directly after you violated the Decree Against the Use of Underage Magic," the wizard replied, "Though you've done it with such frequency, Miss Weasley I doubt if that will give you an adequate timeline. Suffice it to say when you removed the ward that allowed your younger brother to scale my mountain and nearly kill himself, I revealed myself when I saved him. She recognized my terminology when I scolded him," the Professor said.

Rose flushed at this reference to her rule-breaking and almost costing Hugo his life. Professor Snape really knew how to turn something around on a person. But Rose still tried to take her mother to task.

"But you said, Mr. Vespers saved Hugo," she said accusatorily.

"Professor Snape is Sean U. Vespers, Rose," Hermione replied, "The name is an anagram for Severus Snape, as is Sparse Venues."

Rose stared at her.

"An anagram?" she repeated.

Snape nodded.

"A perfectly acceptable and legal use of a name," he replied as Rosmerta set Hermione's salad and his steak on the table. "Rearrangement of the letters is not a falsification."

"Cool," Rod thought. So the Professor had hidden almost in plain sight all these years. He was a very smart man.

"So you've known he was alive for more than a year," Rose said to her mother.

Hermione nodded.

"But I had to respect his privacy, Rose. He didn't want anyone to know he was still alive at that point in time," Hermione explained.

Rose looked at the pale wizard.

"So what changed, Professor? Why did you decide to make yourself known?" she asked him.

Snape looked down his nose at her.

"Miss Weasley, although your propensity for rule-breaking gave me a slight inkling of how much you were like your mother in nature, your inclination to ask entirely inappropriate and personal questions cinches it. I have my own reasons for returning to public life and they will remain my own," he said a bit snarkily.

It was best to put his foot down with the young witch now. Familiarity would eventually breed contempt. In time he might tell her, depending on how his relationship with Hermione developed, but for now he'd keep his reasons to himself.

"He probably was tired of hiding out," Rod offered, trying to ease the wizard's sharpness toward Rose. Snape looked at him.

"Are you a mind-reader, Mr. Dormers?" he snapped at him.

Rod blanched slightly but didn't back down.

"No. But twenty years is a long time to be by yourself, Professor. It was probably just time to come back," he replied honestly.

Rosmerta appeared with Rose and Rod's fish and chips with a side of salt and vinegar.

Snape scowled at the boy, but Rod met his gaze steadily. Finally the wizard cut into his steak and began eating.

Hermione listened to the exchange quietly. Rose had been a bit forward questioning the Potions master that way. His reply could have been even more scathing. She picked at her salad for a moment, then made an attempt to bring the conversation around to something more pleasant.

"Ok Rod, you can't tell us the color of your dress robes, but are they nice?" she asked the wizard, who had just shoved a chip into his mouth.

He chewed, then swallowed, his blue eyes shifting to the Professor. They narrowed slightly before he looked back at Hermione with an exaggeratedly grateful expression on his face. So he wanted to make a good impression did he? Well, Rod would just help him along.

"Yes, they are the nicest robes I've ever seen. Professor Snape is very kind. Thank you sir," he said, looking at the dark wizard.

Snape's eyes cut to the boy, who was smirking slightly.

"You are welcome, Mr. Dormers," he replied, knowing immediately the boy had figured out his game.

"He also bought me a few shirts and trousers. Mine were pretty shabby under my robes," Rod added ingratiatingly.

Now Snape scowled. The Slytherin was overdoing it. And it seemed purposely so, the scamp.

"Mr. Dormers, you don't wear a good set of robes over rags," he snapped at the wizard, "It ruins the effect and nullifies the purpose of the garment. Purchasing suitable undergarments was a necessity, NOT a kindness. Otherwise the robes would have been a wasted investment."

"He got me shoes too," Rod added innocently, looking directly at Hermione, who beamed at the Potions master's generosity.

"Enough, Mr. Dormers. I didn't purchase those items so you can shout my praises to the world. They were necessary," he said angrily. "Now I want to hear no more about them. Ever."

Everyone at the table fell silent, both Rose and Hermione looking at Snape with soft "you're really sweet" eyes. Rod sucked his lips in. At least he got the wizard back for squeezing his neck.

Snape glared at Rod. He'd fix him good.

"Mr. Dormers, you will be accompanying me home this evening, rather than returning to Hogwarts," he said to the wizard, whose eyes widened.

Both Hermione and Rose stared at the Potions master, surprised at this.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

Snape focused on the shiner under Rod's eye. It was a purplish-black crescent.

"In case none of you noticed, the young wizard who decorated Mr. Dormer's features earlier today made it a point to say the altercation wasn't over. Now I realize festive colors are normal for the season, but red and green are the usual shades, not black and blue. And in best case scenarios, the colors are hung from objects, and not plastered on the person countenance. You will not be able to dance at the ball, Mr. Dormers, if your eyes are too swollen shut to see. You need a bit of training so you can at least keep from being completely battered. So you will come with me and learn a few basic defensive and offensive moves," Snape said imperiously.

He also wore a very unpleasant little smirk.

Rod swallowed.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to rub in the wizard's kindness the way he did.

As he met Snape's dark eyes, the young wizard suspected he had effectively drained the dark wizard's store of benevolence.

He wasn't looking forward to this.

* * *

A/n: lol. Poor Rod. He stuck his foot in it this time, trying to be a little wise-ass at the Potions Master's expense. I have a feeling his "lessons" will be very "hands-on." Thanks for reading. 


	47. Teaching Mr Dormers

**Chapter 46 Teaching Mr. Dormers**

If Hugo thought James would be any help, he was sadly mistaken.

"Look Hugo, I know you have a hard-on for Odd Rod, but he's got to handle Roland himself," his cousin said to him.

"I don't have a hard-on for Rod," Hugo snapped at James, frowning, "Roland's just so much bigger than him and is a better fighter. It's not fair."

James shook his head.

"Hugo, Rod's just going to have to learn to defend himself better. I'm not about to go rushing in to help him like he's a witch or something. He's got to be a man, Hugo. If he can't handle Roland, maybe he should just give up the date with Rose," James said.

Hugo scowled at his cousin.

"No. He won't do that," he said firmly, "Rod's not a coward. He fought Roland anyway, even though he got his ass kicked."

James nodded.

"Maybe he'll do better if it happens again. But just stay out of it, okay? This is something all wizards go through and they have to handle it themselves, Hugo. I'm sorry I can't help you. I really am," James said.

"Right," Hugo snorted, stalking away.

James sighed. Hugo just didn't understand that for Rod to get any respect he was going to have to face Roland on his own, just as he had to face any other difficulty in life. When it came to witches, sometimes it came down to the Law of the Jungle, to the strongest go the spoils. If Rod wanted his spoils, he was going to have to grow some teeth.

It was just the way things were.

* * *

After escorting Rose back to Hogwarts, Snape, Hermione and a somewhat reluctant Rod apparated back to the worksite. 

"Perhaps Rod would like to come in for a pumpkin juice," Hermione suggested, feeling a little apprehensive for the young wizard, who was standing there rubbing the back of his neck sullenly.

Rod was about to say he wouldn't mind a drink when Snape said, "He's fine. He'll get something to drink after he's worked up a thirst."

Hermione looked at Rod sympathetically.

"Pay attention to what he shows you Rod," she said to the wizard encouragingly.

"I don't think I'm going to have a choice, Mrs. Weasley. Thanks," Rod said.

"I'll see you later, Professor," Hermione said to the Potions master, who nodded at her soberly.

"Good-bye, Mrs. Weasley," he said formally. "Come along boy. You have a lot to learn in a little time."

Snape strode toward the mountain, Rod following him.

Hermione watched them go, then let herself into the building.

* * *

Snape took the long winding path, Rod dragging behind him. 

"Get up here, Mr. Dormers," Snape snapped.

Rod hurried up and joined the wizard.

"Now, Mr. Dormers. What was the reason for the fiasco I witnessed this morning? Why were you serving as a punching bag for a wizard who was clearly a better fighter than you?" he asked the wizard.

"He wanted me to break my date with Rose so he could take her to the Christmas dance," the young wizard said, frowning.

Snape's brow furrowed.

"So you decided to take a stand," the wizard said.

"I guess. But only because Rose was there and she looked so disappointed when he told her I wanted to back out of the dance. If she hadn't looked like that, then I might have let him take her. I didn't actually ask Rose to the dance, Professor. Her brother Hugo did for me. It was his idea. I couldn't stop him," Rod admitted.

"So you're telling me, Mr. Dormers, you were roped in going to a dance you don't wish to attend?" Snape asked him.

Rod thought about it.

"Well, I do want to go. I just wasn't planning to. I wouldn't have if Hugo hadn't asked Rose," he said honestly. "It seems she really wants to go with me. But I have no idea how to treat a witch on a date. I've never been with one. Ever."

Snape didn't say anything for a full minute.

"I take it that means you can't dance either, Mr. Dormers," the dark wizard said.

"No. But Rose and Hugo are going to teach me before the ball," he replied.

Again silence ensued as they walked along the forest path. Rod looked around.

"All this land is yours, Professor?" he asked the wizard.

"Yes it is," Snape replied.

"It's peaceful here. Nice," Rod said wistfully, breathing in the cold mountain air.

"I take it you like the outdoors, Mr. Dormers?" the Potions Master questioned him.

"Yes. I always go outside when things get a bit much at school," the boy replied, "I feel like I can breathe when I'm out alone. Working around the school grounds wasn't really that bad. Only the teasing. I hated that. But sometimes I would look at how nice the grounds looked and feel kind of proud of it. It was something I did, you know? Even if no one else appreciated it."

The two wizards continued to walk toward the mountain.

"Mr. Dormers, what are your plans after graduation?" Snape asked the Slytherin.

Rod shrugged.

"I don't really know. I don't even have anywhere to go. I spent all my summers at Hogwarts. I guess I'll find a job someplace. My marks aren't that good so I guess it won't be that great a job. I'll probably just . . . I don't know…" the wizard said glumly.

The truth was Rod didn't like to think about what was going to happen to him after graduation. He had a wait and see attitude. He'd survive. He just didn't know how he would survive.

"Mr. Dormers, I grow Potions ingredients for my company. I plan to expand my fields next spring and will be in need of someone to help me work them. Would you be interested in a job?" the wizard asked him.

"Working for you?" Rod replied incredulously.

Snape bit back a snarky response.

"Yes. For Sparse Venues actually. We have excellent benefits and good pay. Since I plan to expand over the next few years, it would be a good opportunity for you to get in on the ground floor. Unless of course, you prefer to be a dishwasher or trash collector for the rest of your life," the Potions master said.

"No. I don't," Rod said, "I'd be glad to work for you, sir."

"Good lad," the Professor said with a small smirk. "At least you have some good sense. Now, come along."

Snape once again grasped Rod by the scruff of the neck and disapparated.

* * *

They reappeared in Snape's living room. The Potions master released the young wizard and looked at him with steely eyes. 

"We will only be here for a moment, Mr. Dormers. Wait here," the wizard said, disappearing down the hallway.

Rod looked around. The wizard certainly had a lot of books. He walked over and looked at the titles. Wow. These were pretty old.

His blue eyes fell on a book entitled: Doorway to the Dark Arts

Rod looked back toward the hallway to see if Snape was coming. He wasn't. Carefully, the wizard pulled the book from the shelf. It felt rather warm in his hands. Slowly, he opened it.

Suddenly the room was filled with a powerful wind, the book ripping from his hand and plastering itself against the wall. Rod saw a hole growing in the center of it and a powerful suction gripped him.

"Help!" Rod screamed, grabbing on to the back of the sofa, his legs flying into the air as he clutched at it desperately, the book pulling at him.

"Professor! Help!" Rod shrieked again.

Suddenly he heard the Professor shout something and the book closed, dropping to the floor, Rod falling to the couch.

He barely had time to draw a breath before he was snatched up from the sofa, two pale hands gripping the lapels of his robes, two dark eyes burning into his.

"Don't you ever, ever touch another object in my home!" the Potions master snarled at him, "If that book had sucked you in, you would have been lost forever!"

Snape shook him roughly.  
"I'm sorry," Rod gasped, "I just wanted to take a look at it."

Snape stopped snarling and released him. The wizard then walked over to the fallen book, picked it up and returned it to its proper place. He turned to face the quivering Slytherin.

"Curiosity has killed more than cats, Mr. Dormers. Again I tell you, you are a lucky young wizard. Now here, take these," he said to the wizard.

Snape thrust a wife beater and a pair of black sweat pants into the boy's hands, then grabbed him by the neck again.

"Let's go," he growled.

* * *

They reappeared in front of the worksite. The door opened and Snape entered, followed by Rod. The female voice announced them. 

"Professor Severus Snape and Mr. Rod Dormer are on the premises. Authorized."

"Follow me Mr. Dormers," the Potions Master instructed, walking down the hall and turning into the exercise room. Rod followed. As he passed Hermione's apartment, the door opened and Hermione looked out. She had heard the announcement.

"Rod! What are you doing?" she asked. Hermione saw he held workout clothes in his hands.

"Following the Professor," the wizard replied, pausing.

"Now, Mr. Dormers!" Snape's voice bellowed from down the hall.

"I'd better go," Rod said to the wide-eyed witch.

Hermione watched Rod walk down the hall and turn into the exercise room. She hesitated, then closed the door. She hoped the Professor wouldn't be too hard on the young wizard.

* * *

Snape walked into the locker room followed by Rod and began to unbutton his robes. 

"Put on those clothes, Mr. Dormers," he instructed.

"Here?" Rod said, uncomfortable. He had never undressed in front of anyone before.

"No, in the hallway, Mr. Dormers," Snape snapped snarkily.

The older wizard removed his robes and started on his shirt.

Rod turned his back to Snape and undressed, feeling very exposed. By the time he turned back around the Potions Master was dressed much the same as he was. In a white wife beater and black sweat pants. He was barefoot. The wizard was lean, but sinewy, his musculature tight and rather cut for someone his age.

Snape sized Rod up. He was a strong-looking lad. Good. He'd need to be.

* * *

**[FOLLOW THIS LINK FOR STREAMING INTERACTIVE MUSIC  
www . theburningpen . com SLASH NB SLASH kff . m3u (remove spaces)**

* * *

"Follow me, Mr. Dormers," Snape ordered, striding from the locker room. 

Rod followed him down the hall, then turned into another room. Rod followed him. It was the Room of Requirement.

The room was empty, but the floor itself was covered in mats. Not the softest mats either. Snape turned to look at him.

"Now Mr. Dormers. You are going to learn a few defensive moves. Today when I entered Hogwarts and was directed by a rather hysterical Mrs. Weasley to break up your fight, I paused a bit so I could see exactly what was going on, observing you and your opponent.

"Roland. His name is Roland," Rod said.

"Roland," the wizard repeated, "In those few moments I saw that Roland is not a skilled fighter, but rather a brawler. He has no training and counts on his strength and weight to overcome his opponents. He is a large young man and the odds are definitely on his side when facing another untrained wizard."

Rod listened carefully.

"However, an opponent's strength and weight can be utilized against him and become a liability rather than a strength. You need to learn exactly how to do this, Mr. Dormers if you wish to at least break even with the wizard," the Professor said. "Now Mr. Dormers. I want you to try to take me down."

"What?" Rod said, looking at the tall wizard in disbelief.

"Take me down, Mr. Dormers. Try to take me to the mats. Attack me," the Potions master said, leaning forward slightly, his arms relaxed.

Rod looked at him doubtfully.

Snape frowned at him.

"Either you take me down, or I will take you down, Mr. Dormers. I am not here to waste my time," the wizard said, his dark eyes glinting.

Rod stood there.

"Don't be a coward all your life, Mr. Dormers. Take the initiative! The reason your life has been so miserable is because you allowed it to be. Find your worth, boy!" the wizard snarled.

Rod never believed himself a coward and hated to hear it said that he was. He simply did what was most expedient. Not make trouble, even when it came to him. But the Professor's words cut him to the quick and suddenly he charged, intending on grabbing him by the midsection and taking him down with his body weight combined with his velocity.

Snape stood there until the last minute, then spun, catching Rod around the shoulders and flinging him hard to the mats, using his own velocity. Rod lay there gasping. He had hit the mats face first and felt the burn.

"Your first lesson, Mr. Dormers. Now get up and try again. Something different this time," Snape said coldly.

Rod got up from the floor, his blue eyes hard. The Professor had to be in his fifties, an old man by Rod's standard despite the good shape he was in. The blonde wizard brushed himself off and stood there a moment, thinking.

Then he charged again. This time he tried shifting and grabbing Snape by the legs. But the wizard was ready and braced himself, absorbing the shock of the impact by shifting his weight, gripping Rod around the middle and lifting him until he was inverted, then dropping down, falling on top of him hard, slamming him to the mats again.

He lay on the boy full weight as he struggled, grinning darkly until the struggles ceased.

Snape got up and looked down on Rod, who lay there panting.

"Very sad, Mr. Dormers. Very sad. But I am sure you realize the errors you've made both times," Snape said. "You will have the advantage if you do not go on the offensive first. You simply don't have the skill yet. Your focus should be on the defensive and utilizing offensive blows meant to weaken your adversary. You should avoid grappling with him. Give him as little contact as possible. That is what I am attempting to show you."

Rod slowly rose and looked at the Professor.

"All right. I see that. What do I do about it?" the wizard asked him.

Snape gave him a dark smile.

"I'll show you, Mr. Dormers. I'll show you," he replied.

* * *

A/N: Rod's curiosity was almost his undoing. :::shakes head::: Good thing Snape was there to save him. Nice start to the lesson, though Snape seemed to be enjoying it far too much. Thanks for reading. 


	48. A Surprising Development

**Chapter 47 A Surprising Development (Short Chapter)**

Hermione read for a bit, but found herself bored and more than a bit curious about what was going on with the Professor and Rod. She hoped the young wizard wouldn't return with even more bruises. She folded up the Charms magazine she had been reading and sighed. She had changed into her flannel nightgown and housecoat. Idly she reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand.

Sometimes when she was bored, she would summon her Patronus, which was an otter and watch it swim about, undulating through the air around her. She pointed her wand straight out before her.

"Expecto Patronum!" she said.

A stream of silver light exploded from her wand tip, then coalesced. Hermione sat straight up in the chair.

"Oh my gods!" she cried as she looked at the Patronus she created. It dissipated from her shock, since she didn't maintain her concentration. Hermione sprang to her feet.

"I have to go see Harry," she said to herself.

But she couldn't apparate without authorization. Hurriedly she slipped her feet into her house slippers, tied her robe shut, then wand in hand, headed out of the apartment and down the hall to the exercise room. She opened the door, but no one was in there. Frowning, she shut it.

"Where are they?" she wondered for a moment, then realized more than likely they were in the Room of Requirement.

Hermione padded down the hall and opened the door.

Snape was throwing punches at Rod, who was dodging and ducking them quite well.

"You have a natural ability to avoid blows, Mr. Dormers," Snape panted as Rod weaved and bobbed.

"I had a lot of practice," the boy panted back.

"Excuse me, Professor," Hermione said, walking into the room.

Rod stopped dodging to look at the witch and Snape popped him hard in the side of the head, smirking.

"Ow!" Rod cried, covering his ear and scowling at the wizard.

"Don't allow yourself to become distracted, Mr. Dormers," Snape said, then looked at Hermione.

"What is it, Mrs. Weasley?"

"I want to go to Harry's house," she said to the wizard, "Something's happened and I really need to talk to him."

Snape frowned slightly. What happened?

"I am assuming whatever 'happened' happened at this facility," he said to the witch evenly.

Hermione nodded.

"Since I own the facility, I have a right to know exactly what occurred," he finished, folding his arms.

Rod saw a bench had materialized by the wall and walked over to it, sitting down for a breather while Snape and Hermione talked.

Hermione pulled out her wand.

"Well, I tried to summon my Patronus, which is an otter . . . then, well, this happened . . ." she said, pointing her wand and casting the spell.

Snape's eyes widened as he stared at the new Patronus, then looked at Hermione rather strangely.

"This is the first manifestation of this Patronus, Hermione?" he asked her, dropping his formality.

"Yes. I don't understand it," she said, staring at the creature, "But it's beautiful."

"Quite majestic," Snape agreed.

Rod stared at the Patronus. It was a beautiful animal.

"Professor, why do you think this has happened? Why would my Patronus change?" she asked the wizard.

Snape studied the Patronus, then turned his eyes on Hermione. They seemed darker . . . more intense.

"Because something in you has changed, Hermione. Something I find quite . . . appealing. Wait here a moment," the wizard said, walking out of the Room of Requirement.

"That's a very cool Patronus, Mrs. Weasley," Rod called from the bench.

"Yes it is, but I used to have an otter. Someone else I know has the same Patronus," she said, staring at the stag as it pawed at the floor.

Snape returned with his wand, walking up to Hermione and looking down at her.

"I find that Patronus very interesting, Hermione," he said in a soft voice, then pointed his own wand in the direction of the stag.

"Expecto Patronum!" he cried.

Immediately a silver doe blasted forth from his wand, and trotted up to the stag, their noses of light touching.

Hermione stared at Snape's Patronus. Rod covered his mouth to keep from laughing. Professor Snape had a doe for a Patronus? Not very masculine.

Hermione had never seen two Patronuses interact, but it was clear that these two were. They frisked about, leaping playfully, the stag lowering its antlers teasingly at the doe.

"I think, Hermione, we need to have a talk," Snape said softly, "It is quite clear the situation between us has changed."

Suddenly the stag and doe disappeared as Hermione looked up at him.

"All right," she said to the wizard, "We'll talk. Tomorrow."

She exited the Room of Requirement, walking away rather unsteadily as if not sure where she was going. Snape looked after her.

"You like her, don't you Professor Snape?" a voice said next to him.

Startled, Snape turned to Rod, who was grinning at the wizard.

"Who I like or don't like is none of your concern, Mr. Dormers," he snapped at him, "Your concern is . . ."

Snape took a swing at the young wizard but he danced away.

"Not getting hit by you," Rod finished for him with a smile.

They got back to business.

* * *

A/N: I know this was a short chappie but not feeling too good today and am going to lie down for a bit. I wanted to get something out to ya'll. So, Hermione has a stag for a Patronus now. This happened to Tonks in the Half-Blood Prince. Her Patronus became a werewolf when she fell in love with Remus. Thanks for reading. 


	49. A Bit of Contemplation

**Chapter 48 A Bit of Contemplation on Hermione's Part**

Snape took Rod back to Hogwarts early the next morning after the boy spent an uncomfortable night on the wizard's sofa. Snape did have an extra guestroom, but told Rod sleeping on the couch would give him character.

It gave him character all right. He was achy and crampy all over from the workout and having to stay perched on the small cushions all night. He fell off twice.

Snape also sent him home with a small Pensieve.

"In this pensieve, Mr. Dormers, I am doing a series of punches, kicks and rushing attacks. When you get back to Hogwarts, I want you to utilize this to practice your dodging and offensive skills. Look for opportunities to make a strike. Of course, there will be no physical contact if I should 'connect' with you, but you can still garner some practice in this manner. There are three different scenarios each of which will begin randomly. Again focus on clean, offensive strikes," Snape instructed.

Rod thanked him for the Pensieve.

Snape also gave him a crash course on dating.

"Be solicitous. The witch shouldn't have to do anything for herself. This means open doors for her, pull out her seat when she sits and stands, bring her food and drinks and ask her often if she wants or needs anything, but not so often you become aggravating. Also, you may have to give up a dance or two to someone else. Check with the witch first to see if she has any objections. If she does, decline, but if she doesn't, be gracious and let the next wizard dance with her and watch for a lull that will let you take over again. You don't want your date stolen," Snape advised.

Rod took all of that in.

"Yes sir. Thank you sir," he said to the wizard gratefully.

"You are welcome, Mr. Dormers. In a few weeks you will receive an application from Sparse Venues sent by my solicitor, John Bartleby. Fill it out and return it as soon as possible," Snape said.

Rod nodded, then winced as the wizard gripped his neck and they disapparated for Hogwarts.

Outside the gate, Snape released him and watched as the boy unwarded the gates and let himself in. Rod turned to him, wanting to thank the dark wizard again for all he had done for him, but Snape simply said, "See you next summer, Mr. Dormers," and disapparated.

Rod blinked at the empty spot, then headed for the school. He felt a little disappointed he wouldn't see Professor Snape until the summer.

He liked the snarky wizard. No one had ever been as kind to him as he was, no matter what was behind it. He had given him nice clothes, advice, some defensive training and best of all, a job. Rod would have never believed anything so good would ever happen to him. Again he realized the day he found that stone was the luckiest day of his life.

Now, to get back to Slytherin house, hopefully without running into Roland before he made it there. He still needed more practice.

* * *

Hermione sat at the kitchen table drinking her second cup of coffee. She had a terrible night, tossing and turning the entire time. It was now eleven o'clock in the morning. Because of her bad night, she got up much later than usual. But she had a good reason for her restlessness. Her Patronus had changed and was now a stag, one compatible with Professor Snape's Patronus. 

She knew Patronuses could change, but always thought something traumatic and dramatic had to occur before something like that happened. Something life-changing. True, her life had changed, but it was gradual. Harry had told Hermione about how Tonks' Patronus changed when she fell in love with Remus Lupin, but Tonks had been miserable, her distress obvious to everyone who came in contact with her. The change had been something noticeable.

Hermione's first thoughts shifted to Harry when she saw the stag. She had no reason to think of Professor Snape. She hadn't ever seen his Patronus. A little thought however made her realize that she had heard of a doe Patronus appearing to Harry many years ago and leading him to a small pond that contained the Sword of Gryffindor, but none of them had made the connection to Snape at that time. Hermione never considered or discussed it again and wondered if Harry knew that the Patronus came from the Potions master. Had the wizard given him that memory?

Hermione didn't understand it and tried to form some kind of theory as to why her Patronus would change concerning the Professor but didn't change concerning Ron. She had loved Ron dearly, but her Patronus remained an otter, and his remained a dog. She thought long and hard about this and came to the conclusion that the Patronus didn't change because they had grown up together and there was always affection between them of a sort. Ron and Hermione's love, although it was true, was a kind of comfortable love, a passionate love tempered by real friendship beneath. They weren't strangers to each other, and had few discoveries and mysteries about each other since they matured together, albeit Hermione had years on Ron maturity-wise. He was still a bit adolescent even as a husband and father.

The witch sighed as she finished her coffee. It was clear that her attraction to the Potions master was real. The new Patronus showed that. The problem was, she was no longer just a single, young woman free to fall into the arms of someone she fancied. There were other lives entwined in hers. The lives of her children and her husband's family. People who would have strong reactions and opinions. People who her choice would affect in some way. Of course, it was Hermione's life, but the witch was always one to take the feelings of others into consideration, and she couldn't in good conscience explore a possible relationship with Professor Snape without letting those close to her know of her intentions.

Dear gods. How was she going to do that? How could she make them understand? She knew Molly wouldn't take it well at all. Possibly Rose wouldn't either. She had been very close to her father. Hugo, he was the most open-minded. He might be hesitant about it, but maybe he would accept it. She just didn't know. She would have to make it clear Professor Snape wouldn't replace their father. There was no man alive that had the ability to do that, nor would he replace him in her heart. The heart had room for more than one love. It could have an endless amount of love within its chambers. If she and the Professor did manage to form a bond, it would be different from what she and Ron had shared. Snape was a different kind of man. A brilliant man, and she suspected a caring man, but one with reserve and with a core of darkness that Ron never possessed.

Hermione had to admit to herself that she found that darkness attractive. As well as his sarcasm and sharp wit. Sometimes he amazed her with the comments he'd make on the spur of the moment. What she also discovered about the wizard was that he didn't explode when he was met with equal snarkiness and sarcasm. He took it in stride. Hermione had thought that like many people, the Professor couldn't take what he dished out. But he showed he could. Hermione had given it to him pretty good over the past year and a half. Oh, there was some backlash, but he never lost his temper.

In fact, he had apologized to her on several occasions. Something else the witch would have never thought the wizard capable of. But she was sure it wasn't something he did often. His attraction to her probably had something to do with that. Which was heady to know.

Well, they were going to talk about the situation, hopefully how to approach it. She still couldn't picture herself actually snogging the dark wizard, though the gods knew he could kiss. In small doses, it was nice, but frightening to think about as a sustained act. The connotations of what it would mean in the long run. The . . . the probability of further intimacy. Hermione feared that would be all she'd think about, how he was trying to move forward to consummating the ultimate act with her.

The wizard said his attraction to her was about more than sex, but regardless, sex would have to become part of it sooner or later. Could she shag Professor Severus Snape?

The witch trembled. Yes, it was possible. Her reaction to his kiss Friday night told her that it was. But it still was rather scary.

"Look at me," she said to herself, staring down into her empty coffee cup, "I'm in my late thirties, a mother of two children, a widow and I'm freaking out about the possibility of having sex with a wizard I'm attracted to. What's wrong with me?"

It was just new territory. Hermione had known Ron almost as well as she knew herself when they became husband and wife. For the most part she was comfortable with him and he was the only man she had ever shared her body with. It wasn't that way with the Professor. There were so many unknowns. Not knowing had always made Hermione feel off balance. She was a born "know-it-all." But there were no books that would define Professor Severus Snape. She would have to learn him as she went along.

Hermione was so involved with her thoughts that she didn't hear the female voice announcing someone's presence on the premises. She jumped when the knock sounded on her door.

"Oh my gods. Is he here already?" Hermione said, running her hand through her messy hair and pulling her housecoat around her tightly as she stood up. She hurriedly tied it with the sash, then approached the door.

"Who is it?" she called out.

She thought she heard a snort on the other side.

"Professor Snape," came the curt reply.

"Oh," she said through the door, "I'm not dressed."

There was silence for a bit then a silken voice purred, "Now that makes for an interesting visual."

Hermione blushed.

"I mean I'm still in my night clothes," she called back, "Could you come back in an hour? I'll be showered and dressed by then."

There was another pause.

"Very well. But I will expect lunch," the wizard said.

"Fine. I'll make some sandwiches," she called back.

Snape stood outside Hermione's apartment, his black eyes glittering as he imagined the nervous witch on the other side of the door. This was the first time he'd known her to have a late morning after retiring at a normal hour. No doubt she was worrying about their upcoming conversation. Most likely she was off-balance. This could give him quite an advantage.

"I will be back in precisely one hour, Hermione," he said.

"I'll be ready," Hermione called back.

As Snape walked away from the door he thought she'd better be. He intended to find out exactly where he stood and how close.

* * *

A/N: Another short chapter, but one I though important to get the mindset of Hermione out in the open concerning her situation while addressing other issues such as the Patronus change. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Thanks for reading. 


	50. Enter Villain 2 Very Short Chapter

**Chapter 49 Enter the Villain #2 (Very, very Short Chapter)**

A wizard with gray-blonde hair and a long, twisted face sat quietly on a small cot, his hands resting between his knees and staring at the floor. All was relatively quiet. It was quiet most of the time here except when breakfast, lunch or supper was served, or when he was let out for his one hour of exercise each day.

He had been here for years. One of many incarcerated. One of many sentenced to Azkaban for being a servant of the Dark Lord. But he was one of the lucky ones. No one came forward to accuse him of murder, which would have given him a life sentence. He had killed, yes, but wore his half-mask and hood in the heat of battle. Who had he killed?

The werewolf. Remus Lupin. And his wife, Nymphadora Tonks, who had been much easier.

He often thought about the wizard, how he fell to the Killing Curse, being momentarily distracted by someone calling his name, and how his bitch came running across the grounds alone, screaming and falling on her knees beside him, distraught. Too distraught to protect herself. Bathing her in the dread light was easy, and there were no witnesses.

He was sentenced to twenty-two years. It had seemed as if it was forever when pronounced, but now, now he only had two more days until freedom. Two more days before he left this dark prison to step out into the sun.

Two more days before he could put a plan in motion to wreak his revenge.

If the Ministry believed twenty-two years of imprisonment would make Henry Jugson feel remorse, they were sadly mistaken. They gave him twenty-two years to simmer, to brood, to build up his hatred until it boiled over. Jugson had always been one of the Dark Lord's servants who didn't stand out, but he was as brutal and heartless as any other minion, as ready to kill as any other. He had participated in the battle at the Ministry when they sought out the Prophecy, but escaped capture.

He had been taken at Hogwarts during the Final Battle by a student, a young black man who was battling Dolohov in a corridor. Jugson had seen Peeves drop wriggling, green Snargluff pods down on the battle and noticed some hanging in midair. They had hit Ron, Harry and Hermione who were hiding under Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

"Someone's invisible there!" he had shouted, and the boy took advantage of his distraction to hit him with a powerful stunner. He was taken after that.

Jugson never knew the young wizard's name, but intended to find it out once he was freed. There were several others he wished to visit as well. Remorse? Hell no. He felt no remorse. He had murder in his heart and revenge running through his veins.

Come Monday morning, he would be free, free to pursue his plans. Free to visit misery on all those who had it coming.

And even on those who didn't.

* * *

A/N: Sorry all. Still feeling pretty horrible, but I'm trying here. Next chapter will be all Snape/Hermione and longer. 


	51. Hermione's Idea

**Chapter 50 Hermione's Idea**

As Hermione showered, she couldn't help the growing feeling of apprehension she felt concerning the upcoming conversation with Professor Snape. It was clear they were moving to another level, but there were so many unknowns concerning the wizard. She wished there were a way to get some inside knowledge, some inkling of how the snarky wizard would handle a relationship. If only there were some kind of test . . .

Hermione nearly dropped the soap as the answer came to her. Of course!

As she rinsed, Hermione knew the wizard would probably balk at what she wanted to do, and the best thing to do was not to tell him until the last possible moment. Hermione had only been with Ron, but she knew one thing for certain, that wizards who were interested in witches were usually very accommodating. Professor Snape would most likely fall into that category as well, with a few complaints, of course. But if he wanted to have this conversation, he'd have to do ask she asked first.

Hermione exited the shower, dried off, brushed her hair and dressed in warm muggle clothing. Jeans, a heavy blue sweater, thick socks and trainers. She grabbed a coat out of the wardrobe, then walked into the living room to wait for the Professor, the coat resting on the sofa. After a moment, she hurried into the kitchen and made a quick ham sandwich with mayo, lettuce and tomato for the wizard. She wasn't hungry herself. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. She opened it.

Professor Snape stood there, taking in the heavy sweater she wore before entering.

"I presume my lunch is prepared?" he said to the witch, his dark eyes meeting hers.

Hermione gestured toward the kitchen.

"I made you a sandwich. It's in there," she said.

Snape headed for the kitchen, his eyes falling on the heavy coat resting on the sofa.

"Are you planning on going somewhere?" he asked the witch as he sat down in front of his sandwich. Hermione got a glass, went to the cooler and poured him some pumpkin juice. She set it on the table on his right, then sat down in the chair opposite him as he picked up his sandwich and bit into it.

"Actually, we're going somewhere," Hermione said as the wizard chewed, "I want to go before we have our talk. It's important."

Snape took a sip of his pumpkin juice then arched an eyebrow at her.

"It sounds to me as if you're stalling for time, Hermione," he purred.

She scowled.

"I am not stalling for time. I'm trying to . . . to clarify something first. It will make me more comfortable. If I'm uncomfortable, then our talk won't go well, " she said to him.

"Where are we going?" Snape asked her, surprising the witch. She thought he'd put up more of an argument. But she had been right about him being accommodating. Actually Snape thought it best to just humor the witch. Sooner or later they'd get down to the meat of the situation. He'd like her in a good mood when that happened.

"Muggle London. A café," she said as he continued eating.

"I hope not to eat," he said.

"No. For something else," Hermione said evasively.

Snape stopped eating for a moment.

"You aren't going to tell me the purpose of this trip until the last possible moment, are you witch?" he asked her directly.

"No. I think it will be more effective if I tell you when we actually arrive at our destination," she said as the wizard scowled.

"You know, one of the most important aspects of a relationship is 'trust,'" she added.

Snape sighed inwardly. Lily used to do this to him all the time. Drag him about not telling him where they were going until the last minute and it was usually someplace he didn't appreciate a bit. Well, that's just how witches were.

"Fine. I won't question you again then," he said, focusing on his sandwich. "I'll find out what it's about once we get there."

Hermione smiled. It seemed the Professor could be manipulated. That was very good to know. She waited patiently for him to finish his food.

* * *

Snape and Hermione exited the Leaky Cauldron and caught the E8 bus, taking it to the heart of Brentford, getting off on the south side of the High Street, right in front of Barclays Bank.

"There it is," Hermione said excitedly, crossing the street. Snape followed, reading the sign:

The TASHA Foundation Internet Café.

Snape caught up to her.

"TASHA Foundation?" he asked her.

"This foundation offers help to people suffering from addiction and mental problems, offering therapy and treatment . . ." she began.

Snape stalled.

"I am not in need of any services," he said darkly, "Did you bring me here to be psychoanalyzed, witch?"

Hermione laughed.

"No. This café is open to the public. They have computers. That's why we're here, to use one. All the proceeds go to the foundation," she said to the wizard, catching him by the arm and pulling him after her.

Ah. All right. Snape knew what computers were. Boxes that provided all types of information. They didn't work in the wizarding world however. They needed electricity.

Hermione and Snape entered the café, the wizard getting a few looks because of his robes, but most thought he was an old Goth or something. You got all types in here. Hermione paid for the use of one of the several terminal rooms, then led the wizard in. On a table was a computer with a lot of little images arranged in neat rows. Two chairs were in front of it. Hermione took a seat and grabbed a little oval item attached to the computer by a wire and moved it around.

Snape noticed a little arrow following her hand motions as she clicked a little "e" symbol down at the bottom of the screen. Using her index finger she right-clicked it with a little button on the oval thingamabob.

A window opened and brightly colored letters that read "GOOGLE" appeared.

Hermione began to type.

"Relationship tests," the words said.

Snape scowled.

"What are you doing?" he asked Hermione, who studied the list that appeared before her.

"You're going to take an evaluation test, Professor. It won't take long," she replied, clicking on one of the pages listed. She studied it, shook her head and went back, trying another link. She went through several before she found what she wanted.

Snape was too taken aback to even say anything for a moment. An evaluation test?

"I just need to make an account. I have to register as male because I believe the tests are different for men. When you finish the test, the results will go to my email and then I'll be able to print it out and take it back with us to the site," she explained.

"And this evaluation is supposed to do what?" the wizard asked her, still scowling.

"Give me a little insight into you, your motivations, things like that," Hermione said.

"You're researching me, Hermione?" Snape asked her incredulously.

"No," she replied, "Not exactly. I just want to feel more prepared about this whole thing."

"There's no way an evaluation can judge what I am like in a relationship," Snape snorted as Hermione stood up, "This is insane."

Now Hermione scowled.

"Humor me," she growled at him, folding her arms.

Snape blinked at her. Shit. Why didn't the Powers That Be in their omnipotence create an alternative to women so men could have a choice?

Little did Snape know women also wondered the same thing sometimes. But clearly, Hermione had the upper hand. If he didn't do this, it could set him back badly. The wizard sighed and sat down as Hermione leaned over him and pointed at the oval item.

"This is a mouse. You use this to interact with the screen," she said, "A question will appear and then a choice of answers each with a box next to it. Point the arrow at the box next to the answer you want, then right-click the mouse to select it. Then the next question will come up. Just go through them until you finish."

Snape looked at the title of the test. "Can You Find True Love?"

"Hermione, you have to be joking? You can't seriously believe this will tell you anything about me," he said to her.

"It might give me a general idea. I just want to see what it says. Thousands of people use tests like this," she said.

"Thousands of people are damn fools," he groused, scowling at the screen.

"Click on 'Start the Test'" Hermione said, "It's underlined."

Snape did as she asked.

A statement appeared, and underneath it five boxes with answers next to them that read:

Very Inaccurate

Moderately Inaccurate

Neither Inaccurate nor Accurate

Moderately Accurate

Very Accurate

"That statement is about you. You have to answer how accurate it is," she said.

The statement read: "Do not have a good imagination."

"What does my imagination matter?" he asked the screen, frowning.

"It's a well-rounded test. Not all questions will be about love, Professor. Now go ahead and answer it," Hermione urged, staring at the screen.

Snape hesitated, then looked at her.

"I would like some privacy if you please. I won't be able to answer these questions properly with you hanging over my shoulder like some kind of vulture," he said to her snarkily.

"Fine. I'll go get some coffee," Hermione huffed, and left the wizard alone.

Snape shook his head.

"I'm mad," he muttered to himself as he answered the first question.

* * *

A/N: lol. Sorry for the shortness of the chappie, but more to come. I am going to include the statements he had to answer. I actually registered on a site as Severus and took this test, trying to answer the way I imagined he would. Lol. It was 113 damn questions! One on each page. I was so aggravated lol. But I painstakingly copied each one and saved it for the story. The results? Man oh man. Lol. But ya'll will see in the next chapter. 


	52. The List of Statements and Questions

**Chapter 52 The List of Statements and Questions**

One by one, Snape answered the following statements and questions. Some had a selection of choices. He couldn't help thinking how a few of them couldn't apply to him since he had no experience with them. Still, he answered as honestly as he could, choosing between Inaccurate, Moderately Inaccurate, Neither Inaccurate nor Accurate, Moderately Accurate or Very Accurate.

Dear gods.

* * *

**Can You Find True Love Test?**

_1. Do not have a good imagination_

_2. Change my mood a lot_

_3. I get turned on easily when I see someone I'd really like to date_

_4. Start conversations_

_5. I am extremely responsive to the well being and comfort of people close to me._

_6. Have a soft heart_

_7. Am not interested in other people's problems_

_8. Like order_

_9. Have a rich vocabulary_

_10. Sympathize with others' feelings_

_11. Follow a schedule_

_12. Have little to say_

_13. Don't talk a lot_

_14. Am full of ideas_

_15. Feel others' emotions_

_16. Emotional distance from a partner doesn't bother me_

_17. I have always been faithful in all my relationships_

_18. When it comes to emotional assistance, my door is always open._

_19. Pre-nuptial agreements are unfair because everything in a relationship should be shared 50/50_

_20. Get chores done right away_

_21. I'm finished being single: I want to settle down with one person for the rest of my life._

_22. Am passionate about anything I'm involved in._

_23. Am not interested in abstract ideas_

_24. Feel comfortable around people_

_25. Don't mind being the center of attention_

_26. Have frequent mood swings_

_27. Nothing in life is permanent, not even love._

_28. Am not really interested in others_

_29. Use difficult words_

_30. Pay attention to details_

_31. I get sexually stimulated when I think of being with someone who's hot._

_32. It's easy for me to have confidence in people because I trust what people say._

_33. Insult people_

_34. My idea of a partner is having a best friend that I could do everything with_

_35. Am interested in people_

_36. Love without passionate sex is simply inconceivable_

_37. Am the life of the party_

_38. I could never trust anyone 100 when it comes to love_

_39. Take time out for others_

_40. If you were given a billion dollars, you would:_

_41. Am quiet around strangers_

_42. I would always feel a strong responsibility for any partner_

_43. Leave my belongings around_

_44. My religious beliefs are based on:_

_45. In times of need, I would not want to depend on my partner, nor should they have to depend on me._

_46. Get upset easily_

_47. Talk to a lot of different people at parties_

_48. My marital status:_

_49. No relationship is permanent because as we change in life we need to change partners._

_50. I never fantasize about being madly in love_

_51. I have been madly in love before and it was magic!_

_52. My orientation:_

_53. Have a vivid imagination_

_54. Get stressed out easily_

_55. I feel awkward or ill at ease expressing myself romantically with words or actions_

_56. Do you exercise?_

_57. Feel little concern for others_

_58. I am really concerned about my being able to love someone for the rest of my life_

_59. I'm not a talker. I'm not into discussing my opinions or hearing others express theirs._

_60. Sports fan?_

_61. Make a mess of things_

_62. Often feel blue_

_63. In a long term relationship, it's okay to have a few adventures on the side as long as you don't hurt anyone's feelings._

_64. How would you describe your sense of humor?_

_65. Am relaxed most of the time_

_66. No matter how difficult a relationship could be sometimes, I would stick to it._

_67. If I were in love, s/he would be my number one passion above all my hobbies and interests_

_68. Would you ever relocate?_

_69. I always keep all my promises_

_70. Have excellent ideas_

_71. Keep in the background_

_72. How important is religion in your life?_

_73. I am certain that if I were in love, it would be forever--I stick to my commitments!_

_74. Am inexplicably happy some of the time_

_75. Don't like to draw attention to myself_

_76. Tobacco?_

_77. Make people feel at ease_

_78. If I were in love, I would NOT want to have sex all the time._

_79. I can share my most intimate secrets with someone I love_

_80. My highest educational degree received is:_

_81. It's difficult for me to give emotional support to people close to me._

_82. Talkin about emotional problems never solves anything_

_83. When I watch a romantic movie or read a romantic book, I get all mushy and teary eyed._

_84. I live:_

_85. Am always prepared_

_86. I find it hard to understand what people want from me._

_87. Worry about things_

_88. Who would you like to find OR what would you like to do on My future plans always include being with someone I love for the rest of my life_

_90. Am exacting in my work_

_91. I am more of a reserved person_

_92. What kinds of pets do you have?_

_93. It's hard for me to get intimately close with friends and family._

_94. Passion and crazy love were invented in Hollywood--I don't believe it's good for serious relationships._

_95. I am so committed to finding a permanent relationship that I would give up everything I have to find one._

_96. Love isn't for everyone._

_97. Your Idea of a romantic evening would be:_

_To have an intimate dinner, followed by a Jacuzzi, and whatever happens next  
Gourmet dining at the Ritz followed by The Phantom of the Opera.  
Green tea, incense, candles, and a philosophical discussion on religion, politics, or love.  
Front row seats at Blue Collar Comedy followed by drinking beer at a sports bar  
Sipping Mai Tai's at a Tiki bar followed by a moonlit stroll along the beach_

_98. Often forget to put things back in their proper place_

_99. I like my independence, and I don't ever want to give that up_

_100. Am easily disturbed_

_101. Alcohol?_

_102. Spend time reflecting on things_

_103. If there are problems in a relationship, I would just move on._

_104. I do not share extremely personal information about myself with anybody_

_105. How many children do you have?_

_106. Till death do us part describes the relationship I want_

_107. I value the company and love of my best friends and my immediate family_

_108. In times of need, I will depend 100 on my partner and they can depend 100 on me._

_109. Children?_

_110. Get irritated easily_

_111. Shirk my duties_

_112. Have difficulty understanding abstract ideas_

_113. Seldom feel blue_

* * *

Finally, he finished the damn test. It felt like it had taken forever. 

"Now, we have to wait a few minutes for the results to be sent to my email account. Then I'll print it out and we'll go back to the worksite and go over it together," she said, smiling at the wizard.

"I can hardly wait," Snape said sarcastically.

"Neither can I," Hermione said, missing his sarcasm completely in her excitement.

At last she'd find out exactly what was to Severus Snape.

* * *

A/N: I thought I let you all see the questions on the test. Next I will put up the evaluation itself for you all to peruse, then continue the story with them going over it. Ought to be interesting. Lol. Thanks for reading. 


	53. Snape's Results

**Chapter 52 Snape's Results**

After about five minutes, Snape's results arrived in Hermione's mailbox. She quickly printed them out, folded them up and stuck them in her coat pocket as Snape scowled at her.

"You could at least let me see the results," he griped as they exited the cafe and stood in front of the bank for the next bus.

"When we get back," she said, smirking at him. "I want to be nice and comfortable when we go over this."

Snape sighed.

The gods only knew what those results would say.

* * *

**Your Results**

There are 8 kinds of love that range from non-love to true love. The kind of love we can find depends upon our needs for passion, intimacy, and commitment. This test is also called the love triangle because the kind of love we find depends upon how much we need of these three key ingredients that create love. The definitions for these eight kinds of love are as follows:

--Non Love: the kind of love we have for people we meet at work or on the street

--Liking: This is best described by good intimacy but no passion or commitment such as being great friends.

--Infatuation: This is puppy love, when passion is high but commitment and intimacy is low and best described by that first heart throb that lasted 2 weeks.

--Empty Love: This is found most often in couples who have been together for many years, raised a family, the children are gone, and although their commitment is high, they have neither passion nor intimacy.

--Romantic Love: This is best demonstrated by couples who have been together less than 2 years; they have high passion and intimacy, but they have not yet reached a stage of commitment.

--Companionship Love: Older couples often find themselves in this form of love. They are intimate and committed to each other, however, their passion has faded.

--Fatuous Love: Fatuous is a psychological euphemism for stupid and best demonstrated by couples who are committed to their long term relationship because the sex is great, but the intimacy is low. These couples may develop intimacy over the years, but more often than not, they will either split up or remain unhappy and find intimacy elsewhere.

--True Love: That form of love happens in less than 10 of relationships. It's when all three levels of passion, intimacy, and commitment are high.

* * *

**Score 23**

Your total score on this test ranks in the lowest 15 of the population. Unfortunately, this is the population that breaks up! This doesn't mean you failed the test, it just means you're not ready for marriage! To determine the kind of love that suits you best, check your score below on the three dimensions of passion, intimacy, and commitment, then look at the 8 definitions above, and determine the kind of love you can find now. What you find now, may not be what you want but, you currently lack some of the predisposition and temperament to find True Love. Look below at your levels of Passion, Intimacy, and Commitment, and determine what you need to improve. You should take the Big 5 Personality test on this site to understand your personality. Remember, the hardest passage to true love is intimacy because without it, you will never reach commitment, And, intimacy only happens with someone you like! This is why the Big 5 personality test is so important...it will tell you who you will like to be with long term. The True Love Formula is Passion+IntimacyCommitment. If you work at it, you can do it!

Now that you have the results to this test, would you like to take our most popular FREE test that is a complete analysis of your personality? Why take this test? Because, the 30 dimensional analysis which it provides will help you understand yourself so that you can get along better with a significant other, a friend or relative, and even colleagues at work. If someone you know also takes the same test, it will tell you why you get along or why not. This test, the Gold Standard of psychological testing is called the Big Five. It will break down your personality into 30 dimensions such as friendliness, emotional control, anxiety, and your desire for human companionship. Click here Big Five Personality Test to take the test.

**Domain / Facet Score**

**- Intimate Love 17**

**- Passionate Love 17**

**- Committed Love 47 /b**

Facets

**Intimate Love** - Intimacy in a relationship can best be compared to being best friends. Best friends share secrets, love to confide in each other, enjoy doing things together, and most of all, they would rather be with each other than anyone else. Intimacy is the second stage of most relationships, after passion, but before commitment. Sometimes however, like "When Harry Met Sally," it can be the first stage of a relationship followed by passion and finally, commitment. Although commitment usually reaches its peak just one to two years into a relationship, it's very important that it be maintained at a very high level throughout a relationship. You will have a very hard time forming an intimate bond (friendship) with someone. Your score on intimacy is in the lower 15 percentile of all people who took this test. This doesn't mean that you cannot find passionate love because most of us can. It just means that you will not be able to move to the second stage of love which is required before you can find commitment and eventually, True Love.

**Passionate Love** - Passion is all about chemistry. It's the first stage of most relationships, the stuff of romance writers, and that first love that we all remember so well. If you read the Mary articles on Chemistry, you will know that passion is Mother Nature's way of making sure that our species will survive. Passion tends to diminish as the relationship gets older, which creates a huge marketplace for writers to tell us how to get that magic feeling back. However, there's nothing wrong with "diminished" passion, provided that intimacy and commitment grow. The key to happiness is balance between passion, commitment, and intimacy. Passionate love is going to be difficult for you. You scored in the lower 30 of people who took this test. As we get older, it's normal for passionate love to subside somewhat, but it's still necessary if we are going to find True Love. Without passion, you can still develop bonds of intimacy and commitment but that is not as fulfilling as finding True Love! Sometimes, our passion dies because of bad experiences or for medical reasons that reduce our libido. If that is your case, you should seek medical treatment because these conditions are reversible with proper therapy and/or medication.

**Committed Love** - Commitment is all about the oath that we take: "Until death do us part." Although we are fast to make such an oath early in our relationship, it's usually the third stage of most relationships. Commitment grows as the relationship gets older, unless external events such as children and career or even retirement interfere. If commitment wanes too much, divorce will ensue, unless passion and intimacy remain strong. However, the key to happiness is balance between passion, commitment, and intimacy and keeping all three at the highest level possible. You are not quite ready for True Love. Your score for commitment was in the 30-70 percentile of everyone who took this test. Are you ready to settle down to just one relationship? If you scored high in Passion and Intimacy, you will eventually find True Love, when you're ready to commit... but don't commit until you are really sure that you want to stay in a relationship for the rest of your life because the financial and emotional costs of separation and divorce are not worth it. Think before you commit.

* * *

A/N: Shakes head. Poor Snape. Lowest 15 lol. He's going to blow up I bet. lololol. 


	54. The Debunking

**Chapter 53 The Debunking**

Hermione and Snape returned to the worksite, Hermione leading the way, Snape following her thoughtfully as the door opened and the voice announced their presence. The witch quickly walked down the hall and let herself in, the Professor right behind her. He watched as she quickly removed her coat and took the results out of her pocket. Well, at least she had lost that 'deer in the torchlight' look she wore earlier.

Hermione sat down on the sofa, and the wizard removed his traveling coat and sat down next to her as she unfolded the results of his test. Together, they read it, Hermione's face falling and Snape's face twisting into a disbelieving scowl. He looked at Hermione, who wouldn't look up at him. He had scored so low. According to the test, he would have trouble with passion and intimacy, as well as commitment. All three were important to a relationship.

"Well, you've read my results, Hermione," the wizard said to her silkily, "And I must say you look quite disappointed."

"Um . . . no not really, Professor. You're not the warmest wizard in the world. These results aren't that surprising really," she said softly.

"It's a good thing your field is Charms and Charms research, not people," the wizard said softly, "You'd be a dismal failure."

Now Hermione looked at him and scowled.

"What? What do you mean?" she snapped at him.

"Hermione, I only took that test to humor you. It was obvious to me that you were so apprehensive about talking to me that you attempted to find some way to give yourself an upper hand. You looked elsewhere for knowledge that you could have gotten straight from the source if you were only brave enough to ask me. Your logic fell to your emotion, witch. If you were operating at one hundred percent, you would immediately see this research is faulty and you can draw no proper conclusion from it," he said quietly, talking as if he were speaking to a child.

Hermione blinked at him.

"You are a brilliant witch, but in this case, you are acting like a blithering idiot," the wizard added.

Hermione's face went black. Snape smirked at her which only made matters worse.

"Tests like these are used all the time by doctors, businesses and . . ." she began

"Tests like these are inherently faulty, Hermione. Firstly, it is obvious that there are 'good' answers and 'bad' answers. An individual who wanted to appear 'good' and well-balanced could easily manipulate the answers to suit them. I could have done that myself, but I didn't. I was as honest as possible. Also, there were questions beyond my scope of experience. There was no possible way to answer them honestly, because honestly I didn't know the answers. How can you be properly tested on something you have no knowledge of, Hermione?" he asked the witch.

Hermione blinked at him. The truth of his statement was so obvious. Was she going mad?

"And then, there is the factor that those questions and statements concerned my general treatment and outlook towards others, not toward you. If I had answered them with only you in mind, the results would have been very different and decidedly out of character. You would have read them and claimed I fudged the test and was untruthful. In the case of a relationship, Hermione, the normal rules of engagement change. True, I am not a sympathetic man, and care little for the problems of others, but . . . I would be extremely sympathetic to any situation that affected you negatively and would do my best to help you and yours," the wizard said softly, "And that is because I care for you. I find you special and I want to be here for you."

Hermione stared at him, not responding.

Snape sighed, then continued.

"There were several statements that were true on that test, but they would only be true concerning others . . . not you. What that piece of paper says about me in your hand is all dragon dung. Every bit of it. You cannot know a person in a targeted situation with something like that, Hermione. Surely you see it is illogical. I would be 'extremely responsive to your well-being and comfort. I would be 'interested in your problems.' It might not even be a stretch to state I would have a 'soft heart' concerning you. So many of those statements I said were inaccurate in most cases, would be accurate in yours, witch," he said, his dark eyes glinting.

Hermione continued to look at him, then her eyes started to glisten. Of course he was right. If he were involved with her, he wouldn't act as he did toward others. He would be different just by virtue of their association. It was unfair of her to put the wizard through this. Unfair and insulting to think that someone as complicated as him could be understood through a few random questions and a tabulated, general response. She had overstepped her boundaries concerning the wizard. Hermione was filled with remorse and not a little embarrassment that she had been so thick and thoughtless, thinking only of herself. And he had gone along with it, knowing from the moment she told him what she was doing, that it wouldn't work. How special a man was Severus Snape? And how shallow was she? It was sobering to realize that she could be so . . . stupid and selfish. Those were the only words that came to mind as she looked at the wizard. Still, he was being so understanding. He could have ripped her from end to end for this, but he didn't. And that meant something.

"I'm so sorry, Professor," Hermione said in a tremulous voice, "I don't know what I was thinking when I came up with this. I was just so . . . so . . ."

Snape gave her a little smile, his normally hard eyes softening a bit as he stopped her apology. He knew from the look in her eyes that she was deeply sorry. There was no need to make her grovel. He didn't want Hermione to ever grovel. He liked her strong.

"You were on unfamiliar ground, Hermione. There were no books you could run to about me, so you did the next best thing, or thought you did. Got some facts on paper. You tried to 'do your research.' Again I say it's a good thing you are a Charms researcher. You've failed miserably in my case," the wizard said, shaking his head slightly. Then he plucked the results out of her hand.

"However, I feel it necessary to debunk the statements made about me in a more definitive manner. The first that I will address is my mediocre 'commitment' level. This . . . is . . . drivel," he claimed, plucking the paper with his finger for emphasis, "I have never in my life taken on anything I wasn't committed to. Ever. From the moment of Lily Potter's death I was determined to see Voldemort fall and worked toward that end for years. When I took up Potions, I strived to be the best I could at it, and still work toward improving my art. I started this business and never once faltered. It is quite successful. Now, tell me Hermione, where is the proof that I am not a man for commitment?" Snape asked her pointedly.

Hermione looked at him.

"You are the most committed man I've ever met, Professor," she said to him softly.

"You're damn right," he growled, scowling at the paper in his hand.

"And this statement about my 'passion level.' It even has the nerve to suggest I seek out medical treatment! It claims that passionate love would be difficult for me . . ."

Snape looked at Hermione, his eyes hard.

"For eighteen years my love for Lily Potter led me to face torture and risk death every day. Does that not show that I am capable of great passion? That my love is enduring? True, Lily did not return my love and now, I understand and accept that, but I also know I have an entire world of love to give to the right woman, the woman who is moved to love me back, and that woman would have all of me, everything I am until the day I leave this earth," the wizard declared, staring down at Hermione, who looked absolutely hypnotized.

"I am fervently hoping that you are that woman, Hermione Weasley," he added, "And if I am to debunk this erroneous assumption about me, as well as the other that questions my ability to be intimate . . . I am afraid there is only one sure way that I can be sure that you have no doubt that I am indeed capable of passion and that intimacy will not be far behind it if and when you are ready . . ."

Hermione gasped as the wizard gently pulled her into his arms and proceeded to snog her soundly.

Hm. That test was good for something other than wiping his ass with after all.

* * *

A/N: woo hoo! I know it was short, but it's early. I'll try to get something else out later today. Thanks for reading ya'll! 


	55. First Contact

**Chapter 54 First Contact**

As Snape's lips met Hermione's a powerful thrill went through the wizard. This was the first time in his life that he actually had the opportunity to thoroughly kiss a witch he was strongly attracted to. He seemed aware of everything about the witch in his arms, her soft mouth, soft body, the scent of her hair, the tempo of her breathing. And she was responding to him, kissing him back, welcoming his attentions and returning them.

Hermione was completely overwhelmed by the hunger and gentleness of the wizard's kiss. He didn't attempt to deepen it, to claim her mouth fully, but still his lips were soft, sensuous, moving deliciously against her own, the hardness of his chest pressed against her own, the spicy scent of him filling her nostrils. He was intoxicating and it felt as if she were slowly being covered in honey, a honey that was quickly warming.

Snape drew back, his eyes smoldering as he looked at Hermione for a moment as if he couldn't believe he was holding her this way, kissing her this way. As if he couldn't believe the desire for more that he saw in those amber eyes. He fell back to her lips, suckling the lower one softly before pressing his own against them fully, his arms wrapped about her gently but securely, aware that he was becoming very aroused. He shifted his hips back a bit, not wanting Hermione to feel his erection. He had considered the possibility of having sex with the witch, but it was only something that popped into his mind on occasion. It wasn't something he constantly thought about, or craved at this point. Hell, they were only at the talking stage.

Well, that had definitely changed.

Still Severus Snape was a man, and wired like a man. Unable to help himself, wanting to taste her skin, his lips slid from her mouth, over her cheek and to her neck, Hermione's head falling helplessly to the side, the wizard's lank hair partially covering her face. Gods, she was getting so hot, and hotter as the wizard began to suckle on her neck. Oh Merlin.

Snape's breathing was becoming heavier now, he wanted to touch the witch and began caressing her back as he moved back to her lips, taking the long route over her jaw line as Hermione gasped and suddenly trembled. He fell back to her mouth then, and slowly began to lean forward, taking the witch down to the sofa. He couldn't help himself as his tongue tapped at her lips.

Hermione felt herself going down and fought to regain reason.

"Professor, please . . . please . . . we have to stop!" she gasped against his lips as he continued to lean her back.

"Severus," he replied, his voice raw, "Call me Severus, Hermione."

He stopped kissing her, his dark eyes full of desire, full of hunger. Hermione stared up at him. His pale face was contorted against what he wanted and what was proper. What was proper was to do as the witch asked . . . but damn, he didn't want to. This was so heady, so different for him. Emotions certainly took what was normally just lust to a new level. He was focused on one particular woman now, his body primed and aching.

"Please, Severus. Let me up. There's still a lot to talk about," she said, her own voice husky.

"Did I disprove the 'passion' section of the test?" he asked her silkily, still holding her in his arms positioned over the cushions. Another few inches and she would be flat on her back.

"Yessssss," she sighed, "Now please, let me up."

Hermione's insides were churning she was so turned on by the wizard. It was as frightening as it was exciting. She couldn't ever remember feeling so physically attracted to a man. There must have been times like this with Ron, but Severus was here, now, flesh and real. In this case, his reality was overriding Ron's memory.

Snape straightened, pulling the witch up and releasing her, his eyes covetous as he looked at her.

"I believe our courtship has begun, witch," he breathed, trying to get his urges under control. He was a bit taken aback, though he didn't show it. He had never felt like this before, this kind of hunger. Lily had never taken him to this point, and the prostitutes were merely vessels. It was like he took some type of intoxicating potion that keyed him directly to Hermione.

Hermione took a deep breath and ran her hand through her hair, then looked at the wizard, still breathing heavily.

"I think so too, Pro. . . Severus," she said, feeling a bit of shyness at using the wizard's given name, "But I can't do this without letting my family know my intentions. I don't want to keep it a secret."

Severus stared at her for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"Yes. I have to remind myself sometimes that you are a Gryffindor," he said, straightening his robes. Perhaps if he reasserted his snarkiness, he could shake off what he was feeling.

This did not sound like a compliment by any means and Hermione frowned at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked him, the tide of euphoria slowly rolling back as a bit of indignation rose to the fore.

"It simply means you feel the necessity to blurt everything out to those around you, labeling the annoying habit as "being honest," he replied, feeling a bit more like himself now that Hermione was scowling at him.

"It IS being honest. I don't want my children or the Weasleys hearing it from someone else," Hermione snapped at him.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

"And exactly who would be informing them of our relationship?" he asked her smoothly.

Hermione turned red. Of course, there was no one to tell them, but still.

"I'd know, and I'd feel terribly guilty about hiding this from them," she retorted.

Snape shook his head.

"That's precisely what I mean about you being a Gryffindor. You claim not revealing the truth is 'hiding' it. That simply is not the case. A Slytherin never reveals the truth about anything unless it is of some benefit," the wizard said to her.

Hermione snorted.

"Yes, but you aren't interested in another Slytherin, are you Severus? Why is that I wonder?" she said a bit smugly.

This was true. Even Lily had been a Gryffindor. And to be honest, Slytherin witches were not that trustworthy relationship-wise, though they knew how to keep a wizard happy or at least pinned down.

"I seem to be attracted to Gryffindors. A definite flaw in my 'personality' that your little test didn't catch," he responded, then stood up.

Hermione looked as if she were going to hex him for a moment, then burst into laughter as the wizard looked at her soberly.

"I don't find my weakness for witches of your house amusing, Hermione," he said to her, looking down his nose.

Hermione just laughed harder.

Suddenly, Severus reached out, grabbed Hermione by her wrist, pulled her up from the couch and soundly kissed her again, effectively shutting her up. Then he let her go with a smirk as she looked at him dazedly.

The wizard actually chuckled as he picked up his cloak.

"It would seem, Hermione, that you have a definite weakness for Slytherins as well," he purred at her as he tied his cloak.

It would be best for him to leave now and give them both a little space. This had been quite the development. Hermione just looked at him. She really didn't want the wizard to go, but knew it would be best he did. This situation had the potential to become too much too fast. She really did need to prepare everyone.

"A slight weakness," she replied, trying to sound light and unaffected.

She didn't fool Severus a bit. He was almost tempted to stay and find out just how slight that weakness was. But still, it was too soon. He didn't want Hermione to feel badly if things became too heated between them. That was another problem with Gryffindors. It was as if they lived on guilt at times.

His willingness to forego his own desires showed the wizard that indeed this was something different for him. He was a man of little conscience for the most part, but obviously not where Hermione was concerned. When the time for intimacy came, he wanted to be certain the witch was prepared for it and wanted it.

Wanted him.

"I will give you a bit of space so you can address your family issues," the wizard said as he tied on his cloak, "Summon Eli when you are ready to see me again."

Hermione stared at the wizard. He was putting the quaffle in her pitch. The next move would have to be hers. It was clear Severus wasn't going to play the "pursuit" game. He wanted proof she was just as interested, though her response to his kisses more than proved that.

"All right," she said softly, walking past him and opening the door to the apartment.

The wizard strode up to the door, paused, then leaned and gave her a very small, quick but delicious peck on the lips, drawing back and studying her face for a moment.

"Good-bye for now, Hermione Weasley," he purred at her.

"Good-bye, Severus Snape," she replied softly, her eyes shining.

Severus left, quickly walking up the hall, the door opening and voice announcing his departure. Hermione watched him until the door closed then entered her apartment, closing the door behind her.

She dropped to the couch and picked up one of the cushions, hugging it to herself as the warmth she felt when the wizard kissed her returned.

"Dear gods," she moaned, thinking about her family as her attraction for the dark wizard coursed through her body, "How am I going to handle this?"

She'd just have to manage.

* * *

A/N: Another short chappie. But mmmm. Thanks for reading. 


	56. Close Encounters

**Chapter 55 Close Encounters**

Rod made it back to Slytherin house without running into Roland. When he entered the common room, several of his housemates were there, Muriel and her friends among them. He still sported the shiner under his eye, though it had faded somewhat.

"Made it back from St. Mungo's I see," Muriel said to him as the other witches cackled.

Rod stopped, scowling at her.

"What?" he asked.

Muriel gave him a nasty little smirk.

"We heard that Gryffindor's boyfriend broke one of your ribs and damaged your spleen, and you had to go to St. Mungo's to get fixed up," she said, her smile like a snarl.

"You can't go about letting Gryffindors kick your ass, Rod. You make Slytherin house look bad," a blonde Slytherin wizard called out to him.

"With you lot, Slytherin house already looks as bad as it can," Rod muttered, heading for his room.

Scorpius Malfoy looked after the wizard, then shook his head, returning to his game of wizarding chess.

"What a loser," he said, taking his opponent's pawn.

Rod entered his room and carefully put away all his new clothes, fingering his dress robes appreciatively. Well, he would at least look nice at the dance. Until he got out on the dance floor most likely. But he was supposed to make sure Rose had a nice time and he didn't want to fail at it, so he'd do his best to learn to dance.

Rod spent the rest of the morning in the pensieve, practicing his dodges, feints and strikes as Professor Snape instructed him. He didn't know when Roland would strike again. The Slytherin hoped he'd make a better showing this time. The Professor was more skilled than Roland and he managed to keep away from him most of the time, so maybe he'd be able to handle the big Gryffindor when he came at him again.

Maybe.

At twelve, he headed to the Great Hall for lunch. He saw Rose, Hugo and Roland seated at the Gryffindor table. Roland scowled at him blackly as Hugo and Rose waved at him. Hugo stood up.

"We'll meet you at five," Hugo mouthed at Rod, holding up five fingers a few times until he was sure the wizard got it. Then Hugo put one hand on his belly and one in the air as if clasping a witch's hand and rocked back and forth as if dancing. Rose pulled him into his chair.

"You're so stupid," she hissed at her grinning brother.

"I'm just trying to put him in the right state of mind, sis," Hugo replied, pulling dishes toward him and piling up his plate.

Hugo inherited Ron's bottomless stomach, and Rose watched him chow down shaking her head slowly.

"Chew Hugo! You're going to choke to death one day," she chided as the young wizard inhaled his food at an alarming rate.

"I am chewing," he shot back in a garbled voice.

His mouth was full of chicken.

Rose just sighed and focused on eating her own lunch. Suddenly a high voice sounded next to her.

"Rose, are you really going to the Christmas dance with Odd Rod?" Angela Gibbons, a sixth-year witch with brown hair and round brown eyes asked her. Several other Gryffindor students looked at Rose with interest.

"I plan to, yes," Rose said.

"Did he and Roland fight over you?" the witch continued, "I heard they did. I heard Roland kicked the shit out of him."

Roland, who was within hearing distance, smiled smugly.

"They had an . . . altercation," Rose replied archly, "But I'm still going with Rod. I have a right to go to the dance with who I choose."

Angela blinked at her.

"But why would you choose to go with Rod? I mean, I know he saved you, but you don't have to pay for that for the rest of your life. Roland is so much better-looking than Rod, and by the way he kicked his ass, more manly too," the witch said.

Rose scowled at her.

"I don't think suddenly attacking someone who doesn't expect it is manly," she said pointedly, "It's something only brutes do if you ask me."

Roland scowled at this and stood up, walking over to Rose.

"Rod attacked me first," he said to the witch.

"Only because you pushed me. He didn't like that," the witch said, looking up at Rod.

"And neither did I," Hugo piped in, looking tough.

Roland looked at the young wizard for a second, then dismissed him, looking back at Rose.

"I didn't want you to get hurt," Roland said, "And I was angry. I didn't mean to push you so hard, Rose."

"But you did push me, Roland. And you had no right to be angry. Rod didn't do anything to you. You're just a bully," the witch snapped at him, angry now.

Roland scowled.

"I'm not a bully, Rose. You're a Gryffindor witch. You should be going to the ball with a Gryffindor wizard, not some half-assed Slytherin who can't even defend himself," he shot back at her.

Now, if Roland had hoped to get through to the witch, he just failed miserably and only succeeded in bringing her "Hermione gene" to the fore.

In her younger years, Hermione used to get into terrible rows with Ron because he would try to tell her what she could do, who she should and shouldn't talk to, and things of that nature. Hermione had hated that.

Rose was no different.

"Who do you think you are, Roland?" Rose said to him, standing up now, her brown eyes flashing dangerously. Everyone in the Great Hall fell silent and looked over at the two Gryffindors.

"You can't tell me who to go to the ball with! You have no right! And I tell you something else, you big bullying oaf, even if Rod did back out, I wouldn't go with you. I'd . . . I'd rather go alone!" she shouted at him.

Roland turned bright red as the witch grabbed a treacle tart and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Then everyone looked at Rod, including Roland. Rod, who had just bitten into a doughnut and had powder around his mouth, just looked back at everyone for a moment, then at Roland, whose face was contorted.

Rose had cut him off for good, and it was all Rod's fault.

He was going to pay for that. If he did take Rose to the dance, he'd have bruises all over him. How would Miss Turncoat like that?

Roland really wasn't a bad sort and for the most part conducted himself like a proper Gryffindor. But when it came to Rose Weasley, he seemed to lose all his good sense. Adolescence is a hard row to hoe even in best case scenarios, and poor Roland was knee-deep in the furrows of it. He couldn't even see that he had brought this on himself and was using Rod as a scapegoat for his frustration. He just couldn't accept that he wanted a witch that didn't want him back.

What made it worse was that Rod wasn't anything special as far as Roland could see. Yeah, he saved Rose but that was one act of note in seven years. He was a shit-shoveler and yard worker. Even his own housemates didn't like him. How much more of a loser could he be?

Now it was just sour grapes for the young wizard. He couldn't take Rose to the dance even if he made Rod back off. So he decided to get revenge against Rod and show Rose what a real loser she threw him over for.

Rod could see the hatred on Roland's face as he looked at him and sighed inwardly.

Rose had not only told the wizard off, but pissed him off. And who was going to pay for that?

Rod Dolmer Dormers.

Shit.

* * *

Roland lingered around the Great Hall, waiting for Rod to leave. Several of his housemates were watching for staff members. A few students from other houses were hanging about as well, not wanting to miss this ass-kicking. 

Rod emerged from the Great Hall and turned for the dungeons.

"Hey Dormers," came a familiar growl.

Rod turned, his belly tightening as Roland stood scowling at him.

"Time to finish what we started," the wizard said, starting to walk toward the Slytherin.

Rod told himself to relax, be prepared. Remember what the Professor had shown him. Keep away. Keep from grappling. Watch for opportunities to go on the offensive that wouldn't tangle them up.

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall opened and the Headmaster emerged. His eyes fell on Rod.

"Ah, Mr. Dormers. Just the wizard I wanted to see. Come with me to my office," the wizard said, oblivious to what was going on.

Roland stopped, frowning at the Headmaster, then giving Rod a look that clearly said, "You lucked up this time."

He turned and took the stairs, the other disappointed students leaving as well.

Rod fell in step with the Headmaster, who looked at him.

"So did you find out what Professor Snape wanted with you, Mr. Dormers?" he asked the wizard.

"Yes, sir," Rod replied.

"Good. You will give me every detail in my office," Wumblewort replied.

Rod couldn't help but wonder why the Headmaster was so interested in what happened between he and Professor Snape. The truth was the wizard was curious and a bit concerned that someone as influential as the Professor was taking an interest in Rod. The man talked to no one, but took this orphan off the grounds and spent time with him? Why? What was the purpose of it? If Rod had been an exceptional student, he might understand the interest. Patrons often looked for bright students to give a leg up, then basked in the glory of their achievements. But Rod was not exceptional in the least. Wumblewort just had to know what was going on.

They walked down the corridor to the gargoyle statue, and the Headmaster muttered a spell at it. The statue leapt aside, opening the way to his office. The gargoyle had some gouges in the side of its stone head, left over from when it had been knocked aside during the Final Battle so long ago. The statue had appeared so punch drunk at the time, Harry hadn't been sure if it would be able to continue differentiating between passwords, but it had come through its ordeal fine.

Wumblewort and Rod rode the spiral stairwell to the office and the Headmaster let them both in, gesturing to Rod to take the seat in front of his desk as he settled behind it. The wizard folded his hands and studied the boy.

"So, what did Professor Snape want with you, Mr. Dormers?" the Headmaster asked him.

"To buy me a set of dress robes," Rod answered shortly.

The Headmaster looked surprised.

"Dress robes?" he asked again.

Rod nodded.

"Why would Professor Snape buy you dress robes, Mr. Dormers?" the wizard asked him.

Rod shrugged.

"I think it's because I'm going to the Christmas ball with Rose Weasley. Her mother works for him. He said I have to make a good showing for his old house," Rod said. He didn't tell the Headmaster about all the other things Snape brought him.

"Ah I see, and that is the witch you saved," the Headmaster said, nodding his head. "He must have heard about it and wanted to reward you. Was there anything else?"

Rod looked at the Headmaster and thought that this next bit of information would rock his socks.

"He offered me a job too," Rod said, his blue eyes watching for the reaction.

Wumblewort actually spluttered.

"You? He offered you a job? But, with your marks you hardly qualify as a dishwasher. What kind of job could you possibly do for a wizard of his caliber?" the Headmaster asked the boy, not realizing how degrading his response was in his surprise.

"I guess all the years I spent digging dirt and shoveling manure around Hogwarts finally paid off, sir. I am going to help with the planting and maintenance of his Potions ingredients. In other words, I'll be a groundskeeper, like I was here. Only paid for it," Rod said evenly, emphasizing the word "paid."

"He believes you can handle such exacting work?" the Headmaster asked him.

Rod thought that the wizard was asking the wrong person this question. He also thought about giving a very snarky reply to such a stupid one. Obviously the Professor thought he could handle it or he wouldn't have offered him the job. He said it himself, he wasn't a man to waste his time.

"Yes, I'll be starting this summer after graduation," the boy said.

The Headmaster studied Rod. It was manual labor, but a position that put him in close contact with one of the wizarding world's most influential Potions Masters. How had the boy managed to impress Snape? He certainly didn't impress anyone else. Maybe the wizard had just felt sorry for the boy. He had no family and no good prospects for the future. The Headmaster decided Snape was just being magnanimous. Plus he was probably going to pay the boy a pittance. Well at least one charity case would be out of his hair either way.

"Good for you, Mr. Dormers. Is there anything else you can tell me?" he asked the wizard, who thought, "Yeah, go to hell you nosy bastard."

"No sir," Rod responded.

"Very well, Mr. Dormers. You may go," Wumblewort said to the young man, who hesitated, thinking Roland might be hanging about waiting for him to return. He didn't feel like facing him yet.

Rod sat there a moment.

"Is there something else, Mr. Dormers?" the Headmaster asked him, scowling slightly. The boy should have left the moment he was dismissed. Was he getting airs because he had the notice of a famous wizard?

"I wonder if I might take the floo to the Slytherin common room, sir. I'm not feeling very well," Rod said, giving a little heave for effect.

Wumblewort's eyes widened. Was the boy going to vomit in his office?

"Yes! Go right ahead, Mr. Dormers," the wizard said hastily. Scourgifying the mess would be a simple thing, but who wanted to sit through that?

Rod thanked him, walked over to the floo, scooped out a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the flames.

"Slytherin Common Room," Rod said, the flames turning green.

He stepped through.

Wumblewort sighed. Well, at least the mystery was solved. So Mr. Dormers was taking Miss Weasley to the Christmas ball. Hm. The Headmaster couldn't remember him ever attending any of the school's social functions. But why would Rose Weasley go with someone like him? The girl was quite popular, if low-key. Maybe it was gratitude for Rod saving her.

More than likely, it was pity.

* * *

A/N: Had to check in with Rod. Whew! Close call with Roland, and good for Rose. Thanks for reading. 


	57. Rod Learns Some Moves

**Chapter 56 Rod Learns Some Moves**

At five, Hugo, Rose, James and a wizard named Winston were waiting for Rod in the Main Hall. They were all skipping supper. Rod turned the dungeon corridor warily, on the lookout for Roland, but the big Gryffindor was nowhere to be seen. His blue eyes fell on James and his friend warily. James looked at Rod with a slight scowl. When he heard Rose and Hugo were going to teach the Slytherin to dance, he decided to come along with them. He and Winston wanted to practice their moves for the ball as well.

"Hey Rod!" Hugo called, waving him over, all smiles and enthusiasm.

Rod walked over to the young wizard and gave him a smile. Hugo was all right. He was always happy to see Rod, and Rod believed he was genuine.

"Hi Hugo," he replied, then he looked at Rose, who was also smiling and dressed in muggle jeans, a pullover blue sweater and trainers, her hair in a pony-tail.

"Hi Rose," he said to her.

"Hey Rod. Are you ready?" she asked the wizard as James and Winston looked him over.

Rod shrugged.

"I hope so," he replied, then he greeted James and Winston who both gave him a small nod.

"Let's go," Hugo said, heading up the main stairs ahead of everyone else.

They got curious looks from the other students heading for supper. It wasn't often you saw a single Slytherin with a group of Gryffindors and hexes weren't flying. But then again, it was Odd Rod with them.

They found the Room of Requirement easily. When they walked in, the found the room had transformed itself into a large mirrored room with a wooden floor and a small desk and some chairs on one side.

James pulled out a small wizarding wireless and set it on the desk, fiddling with the dial until he found a classical station. He and Winston sat down in two of the chairs.

"Now Rod, you sit down and watch me and Rose," Hugo instructed, taking his sister's hand and placing one on her waist. Rod joined Winston and James and watched as Hugo exaggeratedly showed him the basic waltz steps. Rose was taller than he was, but they were pretty good together due to Hermione's whip cracking when they were young.

Rod watched carefully, counting off the steps, very focused and watching how the turns went, Hugo leading his sister around the room. After about ten minutes, they stopped.

"Your turn, Rod," Hugo called.

Rod drew in a breath, then walked over to Rose, who smiled at him.

"Let's do it, Rod," she said to the wizard.

Rod gingerly placed one hand on Rose's waist.

"Watch it, Odd Rod," James growled from his seat as Winston chuckled.

James was just teasing him . . . somewhat. He was protective of Rose though.

Rod looked over at James with raised eyebrows as Rose scowled at her cousin.

"He can't dance with me if he doesn't touch me," she said to James, who waggled his eyebrows at her. Rose shook her head and looked at Rod.

"He's teasing you, now come on," she said, mentally preparing herself for crushed toes.

She didn't need to. It appeared Rod had a very good sense of rhythm and flow. He caught on easily, even venturing a little spin with the witch. Hugo grinned from ear to ear.

"Wow. You're a natural, Rod. No one would know you're new at waltzing," the happy wizard called from the chair.

James nudged Winston. The black wizard looked at him.

"He is pretty good, eh?" James asked him.

Winston nodded.

"Yeah, he is. He's got rhythm," the wizard said.

"I wonder how he'd do with some real music?" James mused, looking thoughtful as Rod and Rose glided around the floor.

Rose was absolutely delighted.

"Wow, Rod . . . you catch on quick. You really are good at this," she said to him.

Rod blushed slightly.

"A hidden talent I guess. I suck at everything else so badly I had to be good at least one thing," he replied, feeling quite relieved he wouldn't embarrass the witch at the dance. He gave her another spin.

"Try a dip, Rod!" Hugo called, "Put your arm around her waist and bend her back!"

Rod looked doubtful.

"Go ahead Rod," Rose said, suddenly looking rather shy.

Rod shrugged, danced with her a little more, then suddenly dipped her, quite gracefully in fact, holding her securely. One of her legs went up.

Hugo applauded.

"That was smooth, Rod! You two are going to look great at the dance!" he said, proud of the wizard. He knew this would work out.

"Thanks Hugo," Rod called back at him.

Suddenly the music changed. Rose and Rod stopped dancing and looked over at James, who was fiddling with the stations.

"Time for some real dancing," the wizard said as Winston stood up and started stretching as if getting ready for a fight.

They found a station that was playing music by the band Dirty Magic. The song was, "I've Been Hexed and I Like It."

Hugo jumped up and started dancing, bouncing all around. So did Rose. Rod just looked at them.

"Feel the music, Rod. You just have to move to it," Rose said encouragingly, shaking her hips and swinging her arms.

"I can't do that," he said to her, watching her motions. They certainly drew the eye.

"That's a girl dance," Hugo said, bobbing up to Rod, "Watch me."

Hugo danced from side to side, bobbing and snapping his fingers in time to the music.

"Snap your fingers. That'll help you get the rhythm," Rose said, snapping hers as she danced around Rod smiling.

Rod started snapping and bobbing a bit like Hugo. Again, he caught the rhythm and it felt . . . well good. He moved a bit more freer.

"That's it, Rod!" Rose said with a broad smile as the wizard started dancing with her. This really was fun. Rod started smiling too as they danced around each other, Hugo orbiting them like a gyrating moon.

Then Rod looked over at James and Winston and stopped dancing. The two wizards were dancing in concert, doing complicated steps, falling back on their hands and kicking up their legs, then doing some spins and other steps that looked really cool. It was some kind of routine. They looked great together.

"They always do that at dances," Rose said to Rod, "They take over the floor at least once."

"They're really good," Rod said, watching them, "Are they going to do that dance at the ball?"

Hugo, who had stopped dancing too, shook his head.

"No. That's what they did the last dance. They always do something new. They keep it a secret," Hugo said.

Rod wondered if they'd teach him some of those steps. They looked fun.

"Excuse me," he said to Rose and Hugo, then walked over to the dancing wizards. He waited for a new song to come on. He cleared his throat a bit.

Both wizards stopped dancing and looked at him.

"Um . . . could you show me a couple of those dance moves?" Rod ventured. All they could say was no.

Winston looked at him appraisingly as James stroked his chin.

"I don't know if you can handle it, Rod," James said to him.

"I can try," Rod responded.

James looked at Winston.

"What do you think? Should we let this Slytherin learn some of our steps?" he asked his friend.

Winston studied Rod. He seemed all right.

The wizard shrugged.

"Well, we can try. He might not be able to hang," Winston replied.

But Rod was pretty strong and flexible, with a good sense of rhythm. Hugo and Rose sat down and watched as Rod copied their moves.

Hugo was very impressed. So were the rest of the Gryffindors as Rod caught on to doing the Snake, flexing his arms and body as if he had always done it. It was as if dancing was second nature to him. And he loved it. It was so freeing. Rod thought he could just dance all day as he moved in time to the music.

James pulled Winston aside as Rod practiced popping his body, forgetting about everyone as he watched himself in the mirror, correcting any missteps.

"He's fucking good," James hissed to Winston, who nodded.

"What do you think?" Winston said to James.

"He might do," James said, then straightened and walked over to the dancing Rod, who was lost to the music.

"Rod. Rod!" James said loudly.

Perspiring, Rod stopped dancing.

"Yeah?" he said to James as Winston walked up too.

Hugo and Rose watched as the three wizards talked, not able to hear them. Rod looked very surprised at first, then doubtful as James gesticulated and Winston nodded encouragingly. Then, slowly Rod smiled and nodded his head, which had the effect of making both James and Winston smile broadly, each clasping Rod's hand and shaking it firmly. Then James turned to Rose and Hugo.

"All right. Out of here you two. Rod can waltz. Now, we have to practice," the wizard said.

"Practice? Practice what?" Rose asked him.

"Our dance. Now get going," James said, frowning at the both of them.

"Rod's going to dance with you?" Hugo asked, delighted.

"We'll see. Now you two get going," James said as they both stood up.

Rose was absolutely beaming as she met Rod's eyes. He gave her a crooked smile and a wave as she and Hugo departed, Hugo craning his neck to look back at them, grinning like a well-fed dragon as they exited the room. This was so, so cool.

When the door closed, James warded it, then looked at Rod. Rod stood there in his white shirt, trainers and trousers. He had taken off his robes. He was glad he had followed the Professor's advice and put on something presentable beneath them. He wore his Slytherin tie. James eyed it.

"You're going to have to be in the middle," he said shortly, walking over to the wizarding wireless and finding another station. After a minute, he found a song he liked. Winston settled himself on Rod's left, and James stood on his right.

"All right, Rod. Let's do this," James said to the wizard.

Rod was more than ready.

* * *

Three hours later, Rod, Winston and James emerged from the ROR. All three looked quite satisfied. 

"All right. We're going to meet here every evening after supper to practice. We have to get the steps down pat so we do them as naturally as breathing," James instructed Rod, who nodded.

Winston stared at Rod as they walked down the corridor to the main stairwell. Finally, Rod looked back at him and said, "What?"

Winston grinned.

"I was just wondering something. You're an orphan, right?" the black wizard asked him.

"Yeah. So?" Rod said, his belly tightening a little. People often put him down about that. They had been having such a good time together.

"I was thinking, the way you dance, maybe you're just a light-skinned black guy," Winston said, his grin growing bigger.

James burst out laughing, and after a moment, so did Rod.

"What? With blue eyes and blonde hair? I don't think so, Winston," he chuckled.

"Hey, I've seen blue-eyed black guys with blonde hair. Usually his mom or dad was like, German or something," Winston said, laughing himself.

James laughed harder as Rod shook his head, his eyes glistening with mirth.

"Whatever. Maybe I am, bro," he replied, smiling at Winston.

The trio descended the stairs, still laughing.

* * *

Winston and James walked Rod to the top of the dungeon corridor. 

"Well, we'll see you later, Rodman," Winston said, giving Rod a complicated handshake he could barely keep up with.

"Nah. You're not a brother. We can do that naturally," Winston chuckled.

Rod smiled at him, but noticed James was looking around the Main Hall carefully, with a slight scowl on his face. He was actually looking for Roland. But he wasn't around.

Several Slytherins walked by them, frowning as they passed and giving them dirty looks, especially Rod.

"Look at him. Still trying to change colors," one of them said to the others as they headed down the dungeon corridor toward Slytherin house.

The comment carried and Rod reddened. James saw his embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, mate," James said to him encouragingly, "You can't pick your house or your housemates. Luckily, you can pick your friends though."

Rod looked at him and Winston.

Friends? James considered them friends now?

There was an awkward silence, then Rod said, "Yeah. Well, I'd better go. See you tomorrow at practice."

"All right, Rodman. Catch you later," Winston said.

"See you Rod," James said.

The two Gryffindors walked away as Rod made his way down the dungeon corridor.

Friends. He had friends now. And he could dance. Really dance.

How cool was that?

* * *

A/N: This was a fun chapter to write. Yay Rod! Thanks for reading. 


	58. Keeping Things in the Dark

**Chapter 57 Keeping Things in the Dark**

James and Winston walked through the Gryffindor entrance, down the hall and into the Common Room. Roland was playing a game of snap with another young wizard. James looked at him for a moment, then walked over.

"Roland, could I talk to you about something?" James asked the wizard.

Roland looked up at him.

"Sure James," he replied with a friendly smile. "What do you want?"

Roland and James always had gotten along, though they weren't best of friends.

"I want to ask you a favor. It's about Rod," the wizard said.

Roland's face went immediately black.

"I hope you aren't going to ask me not to get him, James. I owe that bastard," the wizard seethed, his brown eyes hard.

"No. I'm not trying to do that, Roland . . . it's just that I want you to wait until after the dance. It's important. We need him," James said to Roland.

Winston stood on the right of the two, looking down at Roland with a slight frown on his face. He thought the wizard should just leave Rod alone. He hadn't actually done anything to him. Roland was just mad that Rose didn't like him and wanted to take it out on the Slytherin. After really meeting Rod, Winston thought he was an all right sort.

"Need him for what?" Roland asked him.

James looked at Winston, who slightly shook his head. Rod being part of the dance would be a big surprise for everyone. They wanted to keep the shock value.

"I can't tell you that, but he can't help us if he's all beaten up. So, what do you say?" James asked Roland. "There's never been any bad blood between us. It's just until after the dance."

"But the next day we leave for Christmas holiday," Roland replied, his brow wrinkled, "I'll have to wait until we come back. I want to get this over with."

"We need him, Roland," Winston said, an edge to his voice. "You're not going to mess this up for us."

Roland looked at Winston, who had a little tick in his jaw. Winston wasn't a wizard to mess with at all. He was good with his hands and with a wand. Winston's brown eyes were narrowed as he looked at the burly wizard. It was easy to see that if Roland went for Rod while Winston was around, there could be a bit of in-house fighting ahead.

The wizard Roland had been playing snap with slowly eased away from the table. He didn't want to get caught in the crossfire if there were any.

James looked at Winston, then down at Roland.

"Just until after the dance," James said again, trying to defuse the tension.

Roland looked from Winston back to James.

"All right. Just until after the dance," he said, "I'll just wait until it's over. All the teachers will be well into the spiked punch by then and just thinking about getting to bed."

"Great," James said. "Thanks, Roland."

Roland grunted in response, not looking at all pleased. Winston relaxed but still scowled at the wizard.

"I'm going to the room," Winston said suddenly, walking away from Roland and James quickly. He didn't like this at all. Rod was part of their team now.

James quickly caught up to him as the wizard mounted the stairs.

"What's wrong?" he asked the scowling wizard.

"Roland's an ass, that's what's wrong. He should leave the Rodman alone, James. He didn't do anything to him," Winston spat.

James sighed.

"Yeah, but we can't fight his battles for him, Winston. He's got to stand up for himself, just like we would if we were in the same situation," the wizard said as they turned toward their room.

"Well, I'm going to tell Rod then," Winston said, opening the door and entering, followed by James.

"No. Don't do that, Winston," James said to the wizard, who spun on him.

"Why not?" he asked, "I'm not going to let him be ambushed, James."

James shook his head.

"If you tell him, it's going to be on his mind the entire time, Winston. He's not going to be able to enjoy himself. We can tell him just before he leaves the dance. He'll know then. Maybe he'll be able to avoid him."

Winston scowled at James, but realized he was right. It would put a damper on Rod's night, and might even affect his performance.

"All right. But we have to be sure to tell him," Winston said, starting to undress for bed.

"We will," James assured him, stripping off his own clothing.

Winston turned on the wizarding wireless next to his bed and lay down on his back, dressed only in his boxers, nodding his head to the music. James lay down in his bed as well. It was pretty early, but they had practiced hard and were tired.

"We have to pick out a great song for this," Winston said. "Something different. I owled my dad and asked him about something from the old days. Something no one's heard. Muggle music. Something good to dance to."

"Cool," James said, yawning. "But do you trust his taste?"

Winston shrugged.

"I don't have to use what he sends. They'll only be suggestions. But Dad's pretty good at picking out music," the wizard replied.

At home, Winston's father was sifting through his music collection. It was quite extensive, some titles dating back to when his own father tripped the light fantastic. Winston's grandfather had been muggle-born, an American in the military stationed in England when he met his wife. He also loved music and Winston's dad inherited his love. Discs were stacked on the small table next to the armchair he was sitting in. His wife Joyce entered the living room and looked down at her husband and the stack of magical music discs next to him.

"Still trying to pick out some music for Winston?" she asked him, smoothing her black hair and smiling at him.

"Yes," Dean Thomas replied, "He and James Potter are doing a routine for the Christmas dance again this year. I think I have two good songs here."

He offered her two discs. Joyce took them and read the titles.

"Oh, Dean. You have to be kidding," she said to him, shaking her head.

"No. I saw the movie that song's from. It was pretty good and the music is something everyone will be able to dance to. More pop than anything else," he replied.

His wife looked at the other disc and shook her head again.

"If the students start dancing to this, the Professors are going to have heart attacks," she commented as Dean grinned.

"They'll probably join in, Joyce. After a few cups of punch they loosen up pretty good," he chuckled, "Anyway, the students will love it. I'm going to put both on one disc so when the first song is done, this one can come on. I'm going to send Winston a Pensieve too, so he can learn how the dance goes. It's easy."

"It's scandalous is what it is," his wife replied, handing the discs back to him.

"Scandalous works," Dean smiled at her.

* * *

Hermione lay in her bed, sleeping lightly. She awoke when she felt the mattress suddenly compress, and rolled over, startled and ready to start fighting. She looked into the smiling blue eyes of Ron.

"Hi," he said to her softly, "Sorry I'm so late. I had some extra work to finish up at the Ministry."

He leaned down and kissed her gently, his mouth soft and warm.

"Oh Ron," Hermione sighed, kissing him back.

Ron began to deepen the kiss, pulling the covers back from the witch, revealing her winter gown. He stopped kissing her and scowled at the heavy flannel garment.

"That's almost as bad as a chastity belt," he commented as Hermione grinned at him.

"But much easier to take off," she replied.

"Now that's true," Ron said, doing just that then rolling on top of his wife, kissing her hungrily.

Hermione felt desire flow over her body as her husband kissed her. Then, the kiss changed. It was still sweet, still intoxicating, but . . . but different. She pulled away, opened her eyes and looked up into the pale face of Severus Snape.

"Hermione," he breathed down at her, his lean body hard and strong, his weight pressing into her as he moved against her sensuously, skin to skin, heat to heat.

Fire washed over the witch, but no shock registered. Only desire. She felt as if she were going to ignite and burn them both to a crisp.

"Severus, what are you doing?" she breathed back at him, arching upward slightly, pressing her own body into the wizard's flexing form and starting to work it against him in counterpoint.

He smirked at her.

"Currently . . . you," he replied, lowering his head again and possessing her mouth.

Hermione woke up, panting, her body aching for contact as she sat up and wrapped her arms around herself

"Oh my gods," she whispered, looking around her bedroom. No one was there.

"I've got it bad," the witch said to herself, falling back to the mattress and staring at the ceiling.

* * *

Snape sat on the side of his bed, staring down at his huge erection. He had woken up from a dream about Hermione, waiting naked for him in the Jacuzzi in the exercise room. She was seated in the pool, the bubbling water frothing around her up to her neck. He had entered intending on working out, when he saw her there, her head leaned back and eyes closed in relaxation.

He walked over to the pool.

"Doing your usual strenuous workout I see," the wizard purred at her.

Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at him hungrily. There was no mistaking the message in her eyes.

"No. I was waiting for you to come. Now I can have my strenuous workout," she said to him huskily, hitting the button that controlled the pool. When the water stopped churning, the wizard's eyes widened. She was naked, the rippling water causing her nude body to undulate.

"Come join me, Severus," Hermione said, holding out her arms.

Snape had stripped down so fast it seemed he had divestoed his clothing. Leaving his workout clothing in a small pile on the floor, the wizard entered the pool and wasted no time getting his hands on the witch, smoothing them over her ample curves as he kissed her hungrily.

"Now Severus," she gasped as he suckled her throat, "I can't wait any longer."

The pale wizard had stood up, picking the witch up with him, her legs wrapping around his waist, her body opening to him like a beautiful, passionate flower.

"Take me now," Hermione sighed, her amber eyes hot and heated

"Yes witch," he had groaned back at her, adjusting her body and . . .

. . . suddenly waking up damn it.

Now he sat on the side of the bed, his cock hard as iron and with no place to go.

"I hope you don't take too much time to face your family, Hermione Weasley," he sighed, wrapping his hand around his throbbing organ and slowly sliding it back and forth, shifting the foreskin, spreading the lubrication leaking from the tip, his head falling back and dark eyes closing as he pictured the witch in his mind, tightening his grip.

"I'm not going to continue to spend my nights dreaming about you and wanking off like a sixth year."

The wizard's head fell forward as he did just that.

* * *

A/N: Hey all. I know some of you are chomping at the bit for more HG/SS action, but I couldn't let time pass that way. Since I have other characters and situations, they have to be addressed too. But next chapter, Hermione will face her and Ron's family. That will move things along nicely, I believe. Thanks for reading. 


	59. Hermione Meets with the Family

**Chapter 58 Hermione Meets with the Family**

The next morning at about eight o'clock, a summoned Eli winked into Hermione's apartment. The witch was fully dressed in her robes and traveling cloak.

"You calls Miss?" Eli said to the witch.

Hermione looked a bit pale as she responded, first placing a small package into her robes pocket.

"Yes, Eli. Please inform your master that I need to apparate off the site as soon as possible," she said to the elf.

Eli nodded and winked out.

He returned home to find Severus sitting in the living room drinking a strong cup of black coffee. He'd had a restless night. The wizard planned to occupy his day drawing up the new layout for next season's plantings. He had rotations to complete so as not to drain the soil's vital nutrients too badly. Even though he and Hermione had prepared and enhanced the grounds, he still had to carefully plot out each field.

Eli looked up at him.

"Master, the Miss wishes to leaves the grounds," Eli said to him.

Snape looked at him with interest.

"Did she say where she was off to this early, Eli?" the wizard asked his servant.

Eli shook his scaly little head.

"No sir. She just puts something in her pocket. She doesn't look well sir. Looks as if sleep was hard," Eli responded, not saying his master looked a bit sleep deprived himself.

Snape wondered if the reason Hermione had a restless night was the same as his own. Suddenly, he found himself wanting to see the witch, even if it were only for a few minutes.

"I'll take care of it, Eli," he said, "But you don't have to return to tell her. I'll see to it myself."

Eli nodded and watched as his master rose from the armchair and hurried to his room to dress. The elf shook his head slowly.

"The Master is ruined," the elf said with a sigh, winking out to attend to his other work.

* * *

Hermione was waiting for Eli to return when she heard the female voice announce Snape's entry into the site. She flushed and her heart started to pound. Why had he come? She walked up to the door and pulled it open on the first knock, staring up at the wizard. 

Snape stared down at her, the memories of his dreams coming back to him in full relief.

"Eli said you looked as if you hadn't slept well, so I came to see about you before you left the grounds," he said to her softly, his eyes resting on the witch's lips.

"Oh. Well, you didn't have to come. I just need to be able to get off the site," she replied, her voice wavering a bit. She could actually feel warmth flowing off the wizard, which was strange because he had just come in from the morning cold.

Snape walked forward and Hermione instinctively backed up into the apartment. It was almost like a dance the way they moved.

"I did have to come. I wanted to make sure you weren't going to travel about in this weather if you were ill," he said to her quietly.

"No, I'm not ill. I just . . . I just need to go," she said, feeling a bit out of sorts as he gazed at her intensely. She felt he could see inside of her.

"Where are you going?" he asked her silkily.

"To Hogwarts. I'm going to collect Rose and Hugo, then take them to the Burrow," Hermione said.

This seemed to break the spell between them somewhat as Snape realized what she was most likely going to do.

"So soon?" he asked her.

"Yes. Better sooner than later, and while I have the courage. If I think too much, I won't have the courage," Hermione said, not giving the real reason why she was going so soon.

The dreams she'd had the night before only confirmed that her attraction to Severus was very strong and very physical. She wanted to be able to see the wizard . . . and deep down inside she knew that what was bound to occur between, would most likely occur quite soon. Her body was demanding contact. It had been over two years for her now and her sexual alarm was clanging. She wanted everyone prepared for her new relationship before it was consummated.

Hermione was still apprehensive about having sex with the wizard, but knew that most likely when the moment arrived, her apprehension would be overridden by her need. She wasn't going to delude herself. Last night proved to her she wanted very much to be intimate with Severus Snape and she was no blushing virgin although she had only been with Ron. There was no need to play games when they were both adults. It would be best to let nature take its course. Besides, she doubted if Severus was the kind of man that would stand for games.

"I see. That Gryffindor gene rising to the fore again. But for once, I think your annoying inclination to rush into the fray is the right action. The sooner you face your family, the sooner . . ." his voice trailed off.

"My sleep was haunted by you, witch," he breathed, suddenly closing the distance between them, pulling Hermione into his arms. "It was maddening. My entire night was spent in a state of constant arousal."

Hermione gasped as she felt herself come in contact with him, the wizard's eyes hot as he looked at her.

"I'm . . . I'm not used to this, Hermione. It is a new experience for me and I am normally a patient man, a man of control and reserve. I've desired many things in my life, yet was able to deny my desires," he said, his voice rich with emotion as he held her.

"But this . . . but you . . . my gods woman, is this what it's like to feel for someone else? It's more than lust, Hermione. I had no desire to summon a prostitute to relieve me. I know no one else can relieve me," he breathed, feeling Hermione begin to quake against him. "I am sorry. I told you my attraction to you is more than sexual, and it is, it truly is . . . but I can't help what I'm feeling toward you. How I want to possess you, to make you my own . . .I had to tell you. I had to let you know . . ."

Hermione looked up at him, feeling his arms tighten, aware of his strength, his maleness and his declaration of desire only served as fuel to her own. Was she so weak? No. No. She was the woman. The woman controlled intimacy.

"Thank you for telling me, Severus," she managed to get out, "Thank you for being honest with me."

He looked down at her, then reluctantly released her, straightening his robes and trying to regain his composure. He had gone into meltdown before the witch and now he felt vulnerable and unprotected. He had told her that he wanted her. Physically wanted her. At least she hadn't shot him down or told him it was too soon.

It could never happen too soon as far as he was concerned now.

"Come," he said gruffly, offering the witch his arm, "Let me escort you out. I've lowered the wards."

Hermione took his arm, feeling how strong it was beneath the fabric of his sleeve. She said nothing as he walked her to the door. She was afraid to respond to his declaration, afraid if she admitted she understood how he felt because she shared his feelings of longing, then both of them would have fallen to it, fallen before she had a chance to do what she needed to do. But what would keep them apart once it was done? Once she had told her children and her husband's family she intended to start a relationship with the Potions master?

No, she didn't want to play games, but still there should be some courtship, some control, some semblance of propriety.

The door opened and the voice announced their departure. Severus released her, then leaned forward and gently kissed her lips, lingering over them for a moment before drawing back with a sigh.

"How am I supposed to survive this? Voldemort's punishments were easier to bear," he said to her softly.

Hermione stared up at the wizard. Gods. How was she supposed to continue to resist him when he spoke of his feelings so honestly? Severus was far more eloquent than Ron had been. Ron physically showed his feelings rather than tried to voice them. Severus made an effort to communicate with her, and communication was a true way to a woman's heart. And he shared his weakness with her, which had to be difficult for him. He was trying to be emotionally intimate, making an effort to bridge the gap between the emotional and physical aspects of their mutual attraction.

Oh that test had been so wrong about him.

"You'll survive it," she assured him, smiling at him softly, realizing that for once it was definitely she who knew more about what was happening to the wizard more than he did. Hermione knew what it was like to love someone and have that love returned. Severus didn't. As she looked up at the wizard's somewhat pained expression, she felt that it was possible he would know.

And soon.

"I have to go, Severus," she said, stepping back and giving him another smile, "Wish me luck."

"Luck isn't what is needed, Hermione. Courage is what is required here. And you have enough courage to face a world," he replied, his dark eyes drinking her in.

Hermione hesitated as if she were going to respond, then disapparated.

Severus stared at the empty space for a moment, then wiped one hand over his face in exasperation.

"I can't believe I said those things," he groaned, "Am I losing my mind?"

The wizard disapparated back to his house with a clap of thunder.

Was Severus Snape losing his mind?

No.

Severus Snape, snarky bastard, brilliant wizard and one of the wizarding world's bravest heroes . . . was losing his heart.

* * *

Hugo and Rose were very surprised to see their mother walk into the Great Hall and up to the dais to speak to the Headmaster. Wumblewort listened, smiled, then nodded. 

"Certainly you may take them for the day, Mrs. Weasley," the wizard said amicably, then he hesitated.

"As a matter of fact, I am glad you came as I have a bit of a problem that you might possibly help the school with," the Headmaster ventured. "I'm afraid it is a bit of short notice . . ."

Hermione's helpful gene immediately rose to the fore. Severus would have definitely disapproved of her response.

"Oh, I'd be happy to help if I'm able," Hermione replied with a smile.

Wumblewort smiled broadly.

"Oh, that is wonderful, Mrs. Weasley. You see, two of our parent chaperones for the dance had to suddenly drop out and we are left short. As you know, these balls can be quite . . . boisterous, and the students a bit exuberant . . . they are in dire need of supervision," the wizard said, "I wonder if you might fill in."

Hermione stared at the wizard. Chaperone a dance at Hogwarts? It had been years since she'd been at a dance. Plus, she'd get a chance to see Rose's and Hugo's first date and how it went. Of course, she'd have to stay far, far away from them to keep from "being embarrassing" but she could do that. Maybe . . . maybe she could even get Severus to come along. Did the wizard dance? Hmm.

"I'd be happy to fill in, Headmaster. May I bring a guest?" she asked him.

"Certainly," he replied, delighted.

He and Hermione quickly made plans, then she retrieved Hugo and Rose.

"What's up mum?" Hugo asked her, giving her a quick kiss as soon as the doors to the Great Hall closed and no one could see him being such a mummy's boy.

"We're going to the Burrow. There's something I need to talk to both of you about. And your grandmother. I figured it would be best to do it all together," she said obliquely.

Rose frowned slightly.

"What do you want to talk to us about?" Rose asked as they stopped at the bottom of the main stairwell.

"If I told you now, there'd be no reason to go to the Burrow. Now go get your traveling cloaks and dress warmly. It's cold out. I'll wait for you here," Hermione directed.

Hugo hurried up the stairs, followed by Rose, Hermione's amber eyes following them.

She sounded a lot braver than she felt.

* * *

Molly was delighted to see Hermione, Hugo and Rose turn up. Arthur was there as well and greeted them warmly, embracing the kids before Molly covered them in kisses, Hugo frowning terribly as her lips moved all over his face. 

Ah well, it was the fate of beloved grandchildren everywhere.

Molly quickly made a pot of hot chocolate and took some freshly made biscuits out of the oven, clucking and bustling over everyone until they were all cupping steaming mugs in their hands and biting into buttery biscuits covered in jam.

Finally she sat down and looked at Hermione. Arthur, who was seated at the other end of the table, looked at his daughter-in-law curiously. As nice as this was, there had to be a reason she was here with the children on a Sunday morning.

"All right, Hermione. I just know this is more than a casual visit," Molly said, "Why are you all here? I love having you, but I know there is a reason for it."

Hermione took a deep breath.

"Yes there is, Molly. You all are the most important people in my life, the people who I love and who are most affected by my decisions. I have something that I need to tell you, something that you might find disturbing or upsetting . . ." Hermione said.

Molly's eyes immediately flicked down to Hermione's belly, widening.

"Oh no! No Molly!" Hermione exclaimed, knowing immediately what the witch was thinking.

"What?" Molly exclaimed back at her, obviously relieved however.

Hugo looked back and forth between them, wondering what the hell he had missed, while Rose just stared at her mother. Arthur shook his head slightly at his wife. Molly always thought the worst first.

Hermione stood up and reached into her pocket, taking out a small package. She unwrapped it, everyone watching closely to see what she had. It was a Pensieve.

"Could you all sit around Arthur?" Hermione asked them, "It will be easier for all of you to view this together. After you see it, I will tell you what I need to tell you."

Molly, Rose and Hugo all gathered around the wizard, and Hermione gingerly placed the bowl in front of Arthur. She blinked at her family as they stared at the Pensieve as if expecting a dragon to suddenly emerge and roast them all.

"Hermione, what is this about?" Molly asked her, hating to step into something without being prepared.

"You'll see, Molly. Now everyone, stick a finger in the Pensieve and just watch what happened. Afterwards, I'll tell you the situation," she said.

Slowly, each family member stuck a finger in the bowl and stiffened. Hermione sat down and watched them, her heart fluttering in her chest.

Well, she was in for it now.

* * *

_"Ron?"_

_"Hermione."_

_"Is this some kind of vision? Or illusion? Or hallucination?"_

_"No, I don't think so, Hermione. That's the Resurrection stone. It brought me here because I'm the one person on the other side you wanted to see the most. I miss you."_

_"I miss you too, Ron. I still can't believe what happened to you. I was devastated."_

_"I know. I saw everything. I'm so sorry this happened, Hermione. I wanted to be with you longer than I was. I wanted to be there for Hugo and Rose. I wanted to see the Chudley Cannons reclaim the World Cup. But, that's just not how it was supposed to go. But at least I was happy. I was so happy with you, Hermione. You made my life good and I'll forever be thankful for that."_

_"Oh Ron."_

_"I'm proud of you too. You stepped up to the plate and now you're doing just what you were meant to do. Making more galleons than I ever could have. I'm glad of that. You're brilliant Hermione. You were always too brilliant for me. I don't know how I ended up with you."_

_"You ended up with me because I love you, Ron. You were a good husband and a good friend. I never regretted marrying you, even though there were some hairy moments for a while..."_

_"Yeah. The whole "me the wizard, you the witch" thing. It was just how I was raised Hermione. I wanted to take care of you the way dad takes care of mum. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"_

_"No Ron. There's not a thing wrong with that."_

_"Hermione, I'm gone now. I mean, I'm not really gone but you have your whole life ahead of you. I don't like the idea of you spending it alone. I was a jealous git when I was alive, and I can't believe I'm saying this now . . . but I think it would be good if you could find someone to make you happy now that I'm out of the picture."_

_"But . . . but you're not out of the picture, Ron. I still love you."_

_"I still love you too, Hermione, but things . . . things are different here. You can see life much clearer when you're on the other side. You can see that the most important thing that people can share is love. I love you, Hermione and I always will. I love you enough that I want you to find even more love now that I'm gone. It doesn't mean I love you any less, or that you love me any less. What we had can never be erased, Hermione. I just want you to live a full life, and the fullest life is one where there's love and companionship. I want that for you. I want you to be happy. I can't stand the idea of you being alone when Rose and Hugo grow up. I don't want to see that happen. You have too much to offer someone else, someone else who might need the kind of love you can give. It's a gift, Hermione. You shouldn't keep it to yourself or deny yourself because of my memory."_

_"Ron, I don't want . . ."_

_"Don't argue with me, Hermione. I'm dead and you have a life to live. I'm not saying go out prowling around for some bloke to replace me . . . I'm just saying if the opportunity arises and you connect with somebody, be willing to take a chance it can become something more. That's all I'm asking, Hermione. Will you do that for me? Please?"_

_"All right, Ron. I'm not going to go looking for anyone, but if I feel something and the feeling is returned, maybe I'll give it a go."_

_"That's the girl. Now, I have to go, Hermione. My time's up. You have to let me go, Hermione. Don't summon me again. My time is over. Let the dead rest and the living . . . live. That's the way it's supposed to be. I love you, Hermione Weasley. I'll love you until the end of time."_

_"I'll always love you too, Ron."_

* * *

Slowly, Hugo, Rose and Molly stirred, tears glistening in all their eyes as they looked at Hermione, whose own eyes were wet as she gazed back at them. 

"That was dad. That was really dad, mum," Hugo said, his voice hoarse.

"Yes, Hugo. I accidentally summoned him with a magic stone," Hermione replied.

Rose bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears streaming down her face at seeing her father and hearing how much he loved her mother and how he had wanted to be there for them all.

Molly was crying too.

"He looked so good. So healthy. Even . . . even happy," she said in a low voice, "He looked alive."

Arthur wiped at his eyes and placed a reassuring arm around her shoulder.

"There really is an afterlife, Molly. Ron isn't really gone, nor Fred. They still exist and still love us," he said to her gently.

Molly let out a sob.

Hermione wiped her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

"You all heard what he said to me, about what he wanted for me," Hermione said to them. All of them nodded.

"I still love Ron. I'll always love him. No one will be able to replace him in my heart. What we had, nothing will ever be able to erase. Nothing and no one," Hermione said to her family, who stared at her, the tears still coming.

"But . . . but he wants me to move on with my life . . . to be happy . . . and to find love," she said softly, then drew a deep breath.

"I'm not in love, but I am interested in someone and he is interested in me. I'd like to start a relationship with him, but I wanted to tell all of you first, to try and make you understand that I'm not abandoning Ron . . . I just want to be happy. I promised him I would give love another chance if I thought it could be possible . . ."

She met Molly's eyes.

"I think it might be possible with Professor Snape," she finished.

They all stared at her, Molly's eyes were wide in disbelief.

"Professor Snape?" she repeated, stunned.

Hugo and Rose looked at each other, saying nothing as Molly fought for words. Arthur looked thoughtful as he gazed at his daughter-in-law.

"Yes, Professor Snape," she said.

"But Hermione, it could just be you feel attracted to him because you work in such close proximity. If you came home more often, you might see it's just an infatuation, a passing fancy. And as for him, well, you're a witch . . . and available. Don't assume lechery is love," Molly began.

"No. No it's more than that Molly. We have a lot in common. We talk about things, have the same interests. We have differences too in a lot of areas, but we can discuss them and agree to disagree. And he is kind Molly, despite what everyone thinks of him, the man has a good heart. He's just looking for someone to love that will love him in return," Hermione said, trying to persuade the witch to see what she saw in the wizard. "It's not about lechery, Molly. There are ways he could have his needs met . . ."

Hermione faltered. She didn't want to discuss the use of prostitutes for sex in front of the children.

"Besides, he's a hero. If he just wanted a witch for a quick indulgence there are hundreds that would be willing to accommodate him," Hermione said. "But, we've developed a friendship, a friendship that's becoming something more. I've been lonely without Ron. To be honest, I'm tired of being alone."

"It hasn't been that long, Hermione," Molly argued, "It's too soon!"

Hugo was staring at his mother and saw the sadness in her eyes as Molly argued with her. He loved his father, but his father was gone and he wasn't coming back. Professor Snape wasn't good-looking like his dad, but he was a great wizard and he had helped his mother when she needed it. And Rod. And the entire wizarding world. He couldn't be a bad man. If he liked mum and mum liked him then maybe they should see if they could be together.

"Mum, I think if you like him then you should see if he can make you happy," Hugo said suddenly, "Dad would be happy if he did and so would I."

Molly stared at Hugo as did Rose, who had been silent.

Tears streamed down Hermione's face as she looked at her son.

"Thank you, Hugo," she said softly.

Hugo turned to his sister.

"Rose, don't you think mum should be happy?" he asked her.

Rose looked at her mother. She wasn't sure she liked the idea of her with Professor Snape, but she didn't want her to be sad. Anyway, it was her life after all. They wouldn't be with her forever. Maybe she did need to have someone in her life so it wouldn't be empty when they moved on.

"Yeah. I do Hugo. As happy as she can possibly be," she said, giving her mother a tearful smile.

Hermione burst into a new round of tears and both her children hurried over to her, embracing her and telling her not to cry.

Molly stared at them in disbelief. Didn't they realize they were pushing their father's memory away by accepting this? She opened her mouth to say something but felt Arthur's hand on her arm. He looked at her and shook his head.

"It's decided, Molly," he said softly, "Hermione didn't even have to come to us about this. The ones who really matter are Hugo and Rose, and it's clear they want to see their mother happy. She's our son's widow, Molly and you saw it. Ron wants her to find someone to love. He doesn't want her to go through life alone. What does it matter if she waits one day or ten years? Love has no timetable and lightning so rarely strikes twice," he said to her softly. "You heard for yourself how much they loved each other, how Ron insisted she not spend her life mourning a dead man. We should respect his wishes, Molly. It is what Ron would have wanted."

Molly looked back at Hermione clutching her children and sighed. She had to let this go. Ron was gone and life continued on. It was unfair to want Hermione to be a living shrine to his memory and cut off from the most important aspect of life . . . love.

"I . . . guess you're right, Arthur. It's just so hard to see her move on. It's as if she's throwing the final bit of earth on Ron's grave," Molly breathed, her eyes filling again.

"Ron's beyond any grave, Molly and he's happy. Be happy too," Arthur said, "Life goes on and we must as well."

Molly moved closer to Arthur and rested her head on his shoulder, realizing how fortunate she was to have his presence in her life. How could she deny Hermione the same comfort, the same companionship, the same sense of wholeness?

But . . . Severus Snape?

Ah well. There was no accounting for taste.

* * *

A/N: And there we are. Hermione did it. Hugo is such a sweetie, isn't he? He pulled Rose right along with him too. Hermione is really blessed. Thanks for reading. 


	60. A Couple of Discussions

**Chapter 59 A Couple of Discussions**

After they all recovered from the revelation that Hermione was going to be involved with Professor Snape, Rose, Hugo and Hermione spent the rest of the day at the Burrow, Hugo enthusiastically telling his grandmother and grandfather about Rod taking Rose to the dance.

Hermione glanced over at Rose as Hugo spilled his guts about how great Rod could dance. Her daughter looked a bit red as she listened. Molly hopped right on the details wagon.

"Rod Dormers is the young wizard who saved you, isn't he Rose?" the witch asked her granddaughter.

Rose reddened a little more.

"Yes, he is," Rose replied as Hermione smiled a little. It seemed Rose liked Rod.

"Where is his family from?" Molly asked.

"Rod doesn't have a family. He's an orphan," Hugo informed her.

Molly looked horrified.

"No family? What does he do on the holidays and during the summer?" she asked, her voice going a bit higher.

Both Rose and Hugo shrugged.

"I don't know. I think he just stays at Hogwarts," Hugo replied.

"Oh my word. That's terrible," Molly said, her eyes glistening. "Maybe we should bring him here for Christmas, Arthur. He did save Rose and it's just terrible that he's left alone in that big empty castle for the holidays."

Molly was reactive, but had a heart as big as all of Britain.

"I'll ask him!" Hugo offered with a big smile, then looked at his sister, "Wouldn't that be great, Rose? Rod spending Christmas with us?"

Rose wasn't sure that Rod would accept the invitation. He didn't know their family and might feel out of place. But she couldn't tell Hugo that.

"Yeah, Hugo, it would," she replied.

"And we could give him presents. I bet he hasn't gotten presents before," Hugo continued happily.

Now both Molly's and Hermione's eyes teared up a bit. Arthur frowned slightly.

"Surely he's gotten presents before, from his friends," the wizard said.

Rose looked sober.

"I don't think so, granddad. Rod was kind of an outcast. He didn't have any friends really. He had to work in order to stay at Hogwarts, wore really shabby robes and he used to clean the stables. People teased him and looked down on him because of that. Plus he was in Slytherin house, so that didn't help. Actually, he just got a working wand this year," Rose informed them, "He couldn't even really do magic that great."

"But you should see him now," Hugo said, "He's so fast it's scary."

"It sounds like the boy has had a hard and rather lonely life," Arthur said sympathetically, "I think we should invite him here for the holidays, Molly."

Hermione said nothing, but her heart really went out to Rod. But what the Weasleys were planning could be overwhelming to him.

But if he did agree to come, he might have the best Christmas of his life and that was a heartwarming thought.

* * *

When Winston and James arrived at the Room of Requirement the next evening, they found a very wet and sweaty Rod waiting for them. He was so soaked his blonde hair was plastered to his head and his white wifebeater shirt was stuck to his body. Both boys studied him.

"Rod, why are you sweating?" James asked as he set up the wizarding wireless radio.

Rod picked up a towel off of one of the chairs and wiped himself off. Then he picked up his wand and scourgified himself so as to start out fresh.

"I came a little early to practice a few moves," he replied shortly.

Actually he had been there for two hours. Winston eyed him.

"The way you look, they must be some moves," he said with a smile.

Rod shrugged.

"Maybe. I've got to work on them more," he said as James fiddled through several stations before finding one he liked.

In their dance routine there was a break where each of them were to individually freestyle dance and show their skills. Rod wanted to be sure he could keep up with the two Gryffindors. They had shown him some of their moves and he was learning the routine, but he needed some moves of his own that he didn't copy from them. He had to show some originality.

James walked up to him.

"How can you practice without music?" he asked Rod.

"I just imagine it in my head," the wizard replied. He didn't own a wireless. It would be nice if he did.

"I'll loan you a wireless, Rodman," Winston offered. "I have three of them."

Rod smiled.

"Thanks Winston," he said gratefully.

"No problem," Winston said, returning the smile.

"All right. All right. You two can get a room later. Now let's line up and get started," James said, moving into position. They all listened to the music, catching the rhythm.

"One. Two. Three!"

* * *

Hermione returned the children to Hogwarts. She had revealed she would be serving as a chaperone for the dance.

Both Hugo and Rose scowled. They loved their mum, but they didn't want her fawning all over them in front of their friends or watching them like a hippogriff guarding her foals.

"Mum, you have to stay out of the way," Rose said to her mother pleadingly.

"Yeah. And no fixing my tie or straightening my robes or trying to comb my hair in front of everybody," Hugo said, pouting a bit at the thought of it.

"I'll chain myself to the punch table," Hermione said, smiling as they walked across Hogwarts grounds. "But seriously, I won't bother either of you. Believe it or not, I was young once too. Parents are not cool."

"You're cool, mum. Just not so much at dances though," Hugo said to her consolingly.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at her son. He meant well.

They made it to the castle, Hermione kissing them some distance away so they wouldn't accidentally be seen getting mothered by their peers. She watched her son and daughter enter the school, Hugo giving her a final wave before pulling the door closed behind them.

Hermione sighed, then headed for the gates and the site.

* * *

Snape had left the wards down for Hermione. He was no longer in hiding after all and no one could enter the worksite unauthorized. In addition, there were no fields to protect and his house was undetectable, so not as much vigilance was needed at this point, although he did instruct Eli to inform him when Hermione returned so he could put the protections back up as well as pop in on her to find out how her visit with her family went.

The wizard was sketching a layout for the southern field when Eli winked in.

"The Miss has returns," the elf announced.

"Thank you, Eli," Snape said.

Eli frowned at him slightly. The Potions master rarely thanked him for anything in the past. He was getting soft. It was because of the witch of course.

"You is welcome, Master," the elf replied, winking out as Severus rose from his desk, put on his winter cloak and disapparated to the site. He saw a thin sliver of light for a moment as the door to the site closed. Hermione had just entered.

He pulled out his wand and cast the complicated spell that protected the area, then strode over to the site and entered the building, the female voice announcing him and alerting Hermione. He idly thought he might have to do something about that in the near future.

He was sure there were going to be times he wanted to creep up on her.

He was just about to knock on the door when it was opened and Hermione looked up at him.

"Hello Severus," she said, stepping aside and letting the wizard in.

"Good evening, Hermione. I see you survived the fray," Snape replied, gliding in and turning to face her.

The sexual tension of the morning was gone. Hermione seemed distracted and slightly disturbed. Snape sat down on the sofa, not feeling it the time to kiss the witch.

"It did go well, didn't it?" he asked, concern in his voice.

Hermione started and blinked at him.

"Oh yes. Yes. Well, Molly wasn't too thrilled, but Hugo stood up for me. He's so sweet, and Rose accepts it, though I can't say she's too thrilled either," Hermione said, sitting down next to him.

"That's to be expected," Snape replied, "She may feel I will attempt to replace her father and resent that possibility."

"I explained to them that no one could replace their father," she said softly, "I think they understood that."

"It will still take time," Snape said, "Of course I will take an interest in their welfare, but I will not overstep my bounds."

Hermione nodded, but she still looked distracted.

"Something else is bothering you," he said to Hermione, who sighed.

"It's Rod Dormers. Rose was telling me about how he's lived and Molly wants to invite him to the Burrow for Christmas holiday," Hermione said, "And give him gifts and so forth. But you know, I'm concerned about that. Rod doesn't have much of his own and if they do that, I think it will ultimately make him feel bad, because he won't have any gifts to give them in return. I know gift-giving isn't supposed to be reciprocal but he's going to want to participate as well," she said, "I'm afraid he will feel awful."

"More than likely he won't go," Snape said, "It would be too stressful for him. He is just going to his first dance and that's a large step for the boy. Mr. Dormers seems the cautious sort to me. He doesn't rush in. He also doesn't want to be pitied. They'll make him feel like a charity case instead of welcomed if they act in such a manner."

Hermione sighed again.

"I just feel so bad for him, Severus. You know he spent all his holidays and summers alone at Hogwarts? He had no friends and no family. Rose thinks he's never received a Christmas present since coming to the school. I have no idea how it was before for him, but it's so sad. What does he do for money?" she said.

"He has no money," Snape replied, "Yet. But that will be rectified after graduation when he is employed."

"Still, it's sad," she said softly, her eyes glistening.

Snape studied the witch. She was really concerned about the boy. It was a rather dismal situation.

"He does have the dance to look forward to," the wizard said in an attempt to bring at least one positive aspect to the forefront.

Hermione brightened a bit.

"Hugo said Rod is a very talented dancer. A natural," she replied, "Oh, and speaking of the dance . . . I've been asked to be a chaperone."

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

"Yet another poor soul roped into the impossible task of protecting the virtue of the collective student body," he said, shaking his head. "You don't stand a chance of doing it. There has never been a dance where the punch wasn't spiked and at least five witches had to be given a Morning After potion," he said, remembering all the dances he had to chaperone at Hogwarts. As vigilant as he was, even he was unable to keep the punch pristine.

"Well, maybe if I had a bit of help," Hermione said to him with a little smile.

"Help?" Snape repeated.

"Yes. Help. I can bring a guest," she said, grinning at him. "Will you go with me to the Christmas dance, Severus?"

Snape blinked at her. The Christmas dance at Hogwarts? No. He couldn't do it.

Hermione saw the reluctance in his face and suddenly pantomimed opening a book and flipping through the pages. She stopped and pretended to read the text out loud, running a finger across thin air.

"Courtship 101," the witch said, "If you intend to successfully woo a witch, NEVER turn down an invitation."

Snape knew when he was being blackmailed. Well there was no reason to try to argue. Hermione had him by the balls, quite literally.

"Fine. I will go," he conceded, "But I warn you . . . the first idiot that asks me for an autograph is going to have an extra appendage growing out of the side of his or her head."

"You're just full of the Christmas spirit, aren't you?" Hermione said, shaking her head.

"To overflowing," he replied sarcastically.

"Well, thank you for agreeing to go," she said to him with a smile.

Suddenly, Hermione leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. It was quick, but sweet and the first time she initiated contact. Snape looked at her, his dark eyes immediately heating up.

"Uh oh," Hermione thought, then yawned exaggeratedly.

"I'm totally exhausted," the witch said.

"Quite suddenly as well," the wizard purred, knowing this was the witch's way of running interference and making him leave before things got out of hand.

But she did have a long day and to be honest, if they did indulge themselves at best, they wouldn't stop and at worst, he'd be wanking off again. As delicious as the first possibility was, again . . . it was too soon.

The wizard stood up.

"Get your rest, witch," Snape said, pulling Hermione to her feet, "You have work tomorrow. I'm hoping you can make a few advances before the Christmas holidays set in. You have two weeks off."

"Yes, I know," Hermione said, walking the wizard toward the door.

Snape wanted to know how she intended to spend those two weeks but figured she would tell him eventually. He hoped at least part of it would be here on the site.

With him.

He opened the door and stepped out, turning toward her.

"May I have a good night kiss?" he asked her silkily.

In answer, Hermione puckered.

Snape studied her face for a moment, then leaned and kissed her gently. Once again Hermione felt that honey sensation and was glad the wizard was on the other side of the door. He pulled away and their eyes met, both heated.

"Good night, Hermione," the wizard said softly.

"Good night, Severus. Sleep tight," she replied.

Snape snorted.

"You can be sure I will," he said darkly.

The tightness would be in the general area of his loins.

Hermione blushed.

"Good night," she said again, closing the door on the wizard.

Snape stood there for a moment, then let out a sigh and turned, exiting the site and returning home.

He made himself a firewhiskey and thought about Hermione's concern for Rod. She was a very caring witch, and a mother. The boy's situation did distress her.

Hm.

He'd contact Bartleby tomorrow.

He had an idea.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	61. A Couple of New Leases on Life

**Chapter 60 A Couple of New Leases on Life**

"Here's your papers. Keep them on you at all times," the guard said as Henry Jugson buttoned up his standard Azkaban-issued departure robes. The wizard took the paperwork, scanned it and stuck it in his pocket.

The guard then handed him a large yellow envelope. Jugson opened it, his blue eyes narrowing as he pulled out the contents. Ten Galleons and . . .

"A wand," the guard said as Jugson withdrew a rather nicked wand, "Not strictly attuned to you, you'll have to buy your own eventually, but it will allow you to use some magic. You are to report to . . ."

The guard gave him an address at which was a Reintroduction house where newly released prisoners could stay until they acquired a job and a place of their own. Counseling services were provided as well. There was a cap of one hundred and twenty days of residence then the freed wizard or witch was on his or her own.

"You're a free man, Mr. Jugson. Hope I don't see you back here," the guard said, nodding to the waiting Aurors.

"Come this way, Mr. Jugson," a brown-haired wizard instructed him.

Jugson followed him out of the release room, the other Auror following. He was taken through a series of corridors, then through a huge wooden door. Jugson blinked up at the blue sky and breathed in the scent of the sea. Gulls whirled above him, their harsh cries like music.

"Free," he thought as the first Auror handed him a Portkey.

"Goodbye, Mr. Jugson," the wizard said.

"Portis," Jugson breathed.

* * *

Bartleby looked up when the knock sounded on his door. He didn't have any appointments this morning.

"Come in," he called.

Snape entered, his hood drawn up over his head.

Bartleby chuckled.

"I see old habits are hard to break," he said as the pale wizard lowered the hood, his sharp features coming into view.

"It is not that wearing a hood is a habit, Bartleby, but still a necessity. I am trying to avoid unpleasantness . . . on my part," the wizard said, taking a seat.

"I see," Bartleby replied, "Now, how can I help you today, Mr. Snape."

"I have hired Rod Dormers to assist me in the tending of my expanded fields. Technically he will not begin working until after he graduates," Snape began.

Bartleby's thick brows rose.

"The boy who was in all that trouble with the Ministry?" the solicitor asked.

"The same. He has already agreed to work for me. I would like you to send him a letter verifying his employment, his salary and his place of residence. I will have a cottage built on the grounds for him to live in while under my employ," the wizard said.

"That is quite generous of you, Professor," Bartleby said, calculating the cost of this expenditure in his head. "You like to keep your employees close, don't you?"

"Yes I do," Snape replied, "It will make him available at all times. As you know, some of the plants I grow require night tending. His hours will vary. I need him to be flexible. Having the boy on the grounds will insure that flexibility."

Bartleby wrote his instructions down.

"What will his weekly salary be?" the solicitor asked the wizard.

Snape considered how difficult the work could be and gave an amount that made Bartleby's brows lift again.

"Again, I say you are quite generous," the solicitor said, "This boy is what? Eighteen? This is a wage for a much older, more experienced wizard."

"Mr. Dormers has been a groundskeeper for the past seven years, Bartleby. I am taking his experience into account," Snape replied evenly.

Bartleby stared at him.

"That would mean he started working at age eleven," the wizard said, amazed.

"Yes," the Potions master replied. "He is an orphan and had no resources. He had to earn his place at the school."

Now Bartleby understood the real reason the wizard was building a cottage. The boy had no place to go after graduation.

"So I am paying him according to his experience, not his age," the wizard continued. "In addition, I want to give him a cash bonus for accepting employment with Sparse Venues in the amount of two hundred galleons, to be placed in an account at Gringotts and ready for his use immediately."

"That's quite a bit of money," Bartleby said.

"It's a drop in the cauldron," Snape replied.

"A very big cauldron," Bartleby said, thinking the wizard was being overly generous.

But Snape knew what he was doing. By giving Rod a signing bonus, it wasn't a handout. It was something he earned because of his potential worth to the company. It was just good business. And the boy would have money to spend as he needed and not have to count on the charity of others any longer, if he were thrifty. If he went through it, he was on his own until he graduated.

Snape stood up.

"I want you to get right on that. I want the papers delivered to Hogwarts by suppertime," the wizard instructed.

"Fine. I'll get on it immediately," Bartleby replied.

Snape pulled up his hood and departed, Bartleby shaking his head after him.

It was a wonder he was so successful the way he threw money around.

What Bartleby didn't realize however, was that Snape wasn't just building business, he was building a life for a young man who had no one, a young man that the wizard believed had more untapped potential and character than anyone knew.

* * *

That evening at supper, a lone snowy owl flew into the Great Hall. Everyone looked up because owl post usually arrived in the mornings at breakfast. Well, almost everyone. Rod glanced up but continued eating. He never received posts. There was no one to write him.

The bird gracefully circled above the tables, then zeroed in on Slytherin house, landing in front of Rod and holding out its leg, a large parchment attached to it.

"This is for me?" he asked the owl as his housemates and other students looked at him curiously. The owl hooted and shook its foot encouragingly.

Rod carefully untied the parchment. He had never even touched an owl before, so was very gentle. He then gave it a piece of his roast beef. The owl took it from between his fingers gratefully, ate it and launched itself from the table, leaving Rod staring at the large parchment with his name printed neatly on it.

"I wonder what Rod got?" Hugo said to James, who shrugged and returned to eating.

Headmaster Wumblewort also wondered what was in the large envelope. However, he wasn't allowed to screen posts to students. All he could do would be to ask Rod.

Rod stared down at the parchment as slowly everyone returned to their meal, a bit exasperated the young wizard didn't open it.

It was Rod's first post. He planned to open it in private. He wolfed down the rest of his meal and quickly left the hall, heading for Slytherin house. Once in his room, he sat down on the bed and used his wand to carefully slice open the top. Inside were three documents, the first two with the Sparse Venues letterhead and the third with an official Gringotts seal.

Gringotts?

Rod of course looked at this first, and his eyes went round as saucers as he read he now had an account at Gringotts bank containing two hundred galleons. The depositor was Sparse Venues Inc.

Rod stared at the document, his heart pounding. He had two hundred galleons? That was a fortune, or it seemed to be to Rod, who had never had more than a galleon at one time in all his life. Why had they given him this?

Rod read the letter from Bartleby instructing him to fill out and sign the letter of employment and return it by owl to his office. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he read what his weekly pay would be. So much? For just working the fields? He continued reading. The two hundred galleons was a bonus for accepting the job.

Wow.

Rod continued reading. He was going to have a cottage on the grounds to stay in as long as he worked for the company.

Hell, he was going to work for Sparse Venues forever. He couldn't believe this. This was . . . was a miracle! Awesome!

Rod jumped up off the bed, turned on the wireless Winston had loaned him, did a sharp spin, then proceeded to moonwalk all around the room, dancing with joy. Oh this was just great!

He had a job. He had money.

Most of all, he had a life. A real life.

Rod suddenly remembered he had to get to dance practice and hurriedly put on his practice clothing and trainers, buttoning his robes over them. He wasn't going to tell anyone about his good fortune. Not a soul. They could just keep calling him a loser.

But he knew now and with certainty, he wasn't one.

He hurried from his room, passing through the common room, slipping past his housemates.

"Hey Odd, what did the owl bring you?" someone called out behind him.

He didn't answer as he hurried up the hall.

Let them wonder.

* * *

Hermione had a good day in the labs and when she returned to her apartment, changed into her workout clothing. Molly told her she must be working too hard because she was losing weight. Hermione checked herself on the scale, but she hadn't lost a stone. She realized her body must be toning up because of all the walking she did on the treadmill.

She decided she was going to try to use a couple of the weight machines. She entered the exercise room and looked at the pile of flat weights attached to a metal rope that ran through a series of pulleys to a handlebar like grip dangling above her.

That was what Severus lifted when he worked out. There were no numbers on the bars so she didn't know how much each weighed but he had quite a stack of them. Curiously, Hermione reached up, gripped the bar and pulled downward.

The weights didn't budge. She let out a breath and tried again.

"Damn," she said to herself, widening her stance, closing her eyes and pulling on the bar with all her strength. Suddenly the bar pulled down, Hermione barely feeling the strain of lifting the weights at all. Her eyes flew open and she saw two strong pale hands gripping the inside of the bar, reaching over her.

"Having a bit of a workout, Hermione?" a silken voice purred, "I think this weight is a bit much for you."

Hermione released the bar and turned to face Severus, who was dressed in his workout clothing. The usual white wifebeater, black sweats and black trainers. He looked down at her, a half smirk on his face as she reddened.

"I was just trying to see if I could lift what you could," she said.

He chuckled softly.

"You weigh less than what's on that machine," he said to the witch.

"I doubt that," Hermione said.

"Really?" Snape replied, "Let's just test that theory."

Hermione let out a shriek as the wizard caught her by the waist and lifted her up above his head.

"Put me down!" Hermione screamed, kicking her legs and whirling her arms. The wizard lowered her back to the ground, keeping his grip on her waist for a moment.

"Just as I thought. You are lighter," he said to the witch silkily, then released her.

Furious, Hermione poked him in the chest with her finger, her eyes flashing.

"Don't you ever do that again! I'm scared to death of heights!" she hissed at him.

Snape's mouth quirked.

"I forgot you have a fear of flying, witch," he said to her in a low voice, stepping a bit closer. Stuck in front of the weight machine, Hermione couldn't back up.

Snape's dark eyes met hers and he leaned slightly as if about to kiss the witch. Hermione's breathing began to quicken at his closeness

"If you could, Hermione, would you fly away from me now?" he asked her softly. "Or would you rather soar with me?"

"I . . . I . . ." she began as she looked up at him

"You what, witch?" he breathed, moving closer, his lips descending. "Utter . . . don't stutter."

"I'd . . . I'd rather stay grounded for now," she said, suddenly pushing past him. Snape allowed her to do so, turning as she slipped by him. He saw her reaction. He could have swooped in and kissed her easily, but found toying with her quite pleasant.

It appeared a relationship could be fun as well.

Hermione walked over to the treadmill, her idea about using the weights flying out the turret window as she got on and began to walk very quickly. Severus was so . . . so seductive.

The Potions master began to work out on the weight machine, deciding to let the witch calm down. But one thing he noticed was that despite his obvious pass at her . . .

Hermione didn't leave.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	62. Heading for Hogwarts

**Chapter 61 Heading for Hogwarts**

Snape did several sets as Hermione walked on the treadmill, watching his shoulder blades bunch and flex. He had lifted her so easily. She flushed a bit as her mind started to drift toward the more intimate possibilities such strength could offer sexually.

"Gods," Hermione said under her breath, forcing the naughty thoughts out of her head.

At the moment, the wizard ended his sets and turned to look at her.

"I think I'll take a turn on the treadmill myself," he said to the witch.

Hermione watched as Snape walked to the treadmill next to hers, stepped over it, then hopped up on her treadmill, gripping the handlebars around her and trapping her between his arms.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked him, stopping.

"Going for a walk with you," he purred and he started walking so Hermione slid into him. The witch gasped as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Severus!" she said, wriggling, the wizard enjoying the wriggles very much.

"That's my name," he said silkily, stepping off the treadmill, taking the witch with him, still held against his body.

"I'm supposed to be working out," Hermione said as the wizard looked down at her, arching an eyebrow suggestively. "I can't work out this way."

"I beg to differ. There are a number of ways to work out," he replied, "In fact, I have an excellent regime in mind to strengthen your lips."

Then the wizard kissed her gently, once again working his magic on Hermione who found herself falling under his spell, the sensuous motion of his lips against hers once again becoming the point of a delicious, flowing pleasure. She sighed against his mouth and he tightened his hold on her, reveling in the softness of her body against his own, the acceptance and promise in her kiss.

They kissed this way for about three minutes, intoxicated with each other, the only reality, their connection, the rest of the world fuzzing out, leaving only the couple at the center, the core of all existence. Finally, Snape broke the kiss, his eyes heated as he looked down at Hermione, whose eyes were half-lidded as she gazed up at him from between her lashes.

"You certainly can kiss, Severus," she breathed.

"That is because I finally have a witch I can kiss," he said back to her, "A witch that is willing to accept me and return my affection . . . although I have to chase her down and trap her in compromising positions in order to take advantage of that fact," he added.

Hermione smiled at him.

"That's the fun of it, the chase," she said softly.

Snape sobered.

"I believe the 'capture' is even more compelling," he replied, "And I want to capture you, witch. How long do you intend to run from me over hill and dale and work site?"

Hermione blushed.

"Well, I'm slowing down . . . a little," she said tremulously, "but it's kind of frightening when it feels as if there's a wolf on my heels."

Snape smirked at her.

"A big, bad wolf," he purred, "Anxious to eat you up from head to toe."

Hermione flushed again, then gently pushed away from him, the wizard letting her go. He did feel a bit like a wolf. Snape knew he was pressuring her, but he was a man . . . it was nature. How else was he to court the witch except to let her know how much he desired her? This was hard enough as it was. How much was too much? What was too little? Where was the middle ground?

Prostitutes were so much easier. They already knew what he wanted and gave it to him, for a price of course.

Hermione knew too, but she was going to make him work for it. And that was compelling as well. She was right, the chase was heady. The capture would be worth it in the end.

Well, now was a good time to earn a few more brownie points with the witch.

"I spoke to Bartleby today concerning Mr. Dormers," he said to the witch, who had been looking at the floor. She looked up at him.

"About Rod?" she asked.

Snape bit back a snarky reply. Ooh, he hated responses like that. Responses that required one to repeat what's already been said. It was a pet peeve with the wizard. But, this was Hermione, so he swallowed it down.

"Yes. I solved his little money problem," the wizard said.

Hermione brightened.

"You gave him money, Severus?" she asked him.

Snape scowled.

"Of course I didn't 'give' him money. I never 'give' anyone money without some kind of compensation," he snarked, "And I certainly wouldn't treat Mr. Dormers as a charity case at any rate. It's demeaning. The boy has to earn his way to feel any worth."

Hermione scowled back at him.

"Well, you said you solved his money problem. If you didn't give him any money, then how did you solve anything?" she asked him, her hands on her hips now.

"He is now in my employ," Snape replied, "Bartleby sent him the paperwork and a signing bonus. He has an account at Gringotts now."

"A signing bonus?" Hermione said, once more irritating the wizard.

"Yes," he said tightly, "He is going to be a valuable employee for Sparse Venues. Giving him a bonus is only showing the company's appreciation of his acceptance of employment and creating incentive to make him want to stay in its employ. In other words, it's simply good business."

"Oh. Good business. Is that another word for 'bribery?'" Hermione asked him.

"Perhaps in lower browed circles," the wizard admitted, "But still it is good business."

He folded his arms across his chest in finality as Hermione pursed her lips at him.

Now, Hermione knew good and well that Severus didn't have to bribe Rod into accepting the job. The boy had already accepted it verbally. The wizard was once again trying to cover up his act of kindness with cold logic.

It didn't work. Not on Hermione at least.

Hermione smiled at him, shaking her head.

"You really are wonderful, Severus," she said softly, walking up to him and this time placing her arms around his neck and drawing him down into another kiss, even sweeter than the first they shared.

Snape accepted the kiss enthusiastically, thinking whoever said "Money couldn't buy happiness" had no idea what he was talking about.

* * *

Hermione and Snape spent about an hour in the exercise room snogging on the exercise bench before the witch finally departed, leaving the wizard to finish his work out. He applied himself to his regime quite ardently, having the added impetus of sexual frustration to power him along. But he was (almost) the perfect gentleman during the kissing session, though the gods knew he wanted to take the witch to the mats.

It wasn't the most romantic notion, but there it was.

Hermione had also convinced him to give her tomorrow afternoon off so she could go to Hogsmeade and buy a gown for the dance.

"I have to look nice," she said to the grumbling wizard. "And the dance is this Friday."

Snape really did keep work life and personal life separate for the most part, and Hermione was hard put to get him to let her have an afternoon off, particularly since she was about to take a two week vacation.

"Can't you order it by owl?" he asked the witch.

Eventually he gave in however, making references to her "snogging the boss" to get her way and how Bartleby was right about how employee/employer interactions were nothing but trouble.

Hermione snogged him to silence.

As far as Snape was concerned, there was no better way for her to shut him up. He'd have to remember the witch's response to him grumbling. He was sure it would come in handy.

* * *

The week passed quickly for the couple, although on Wednesday Hermione and Severus had a big row when she found out he'd docked her pay for her afternoon off. They were in her apartment when she got the news.

"You didn't work, so you don't get paid," he said snarkily.

"But I'm on SALARY!" Hermione yelled at him, then proceeded to beat him up with a sofa cushion.

Snape loved it, especially tackling her and taking her down to the sofa. Hermione squirmed under him for a minute or two, the wizard lying halfway on top of her full weight until she stopped.

"I had no idea you were abusive," he said to the witch silkily, "I fear I am going to be a 'battered boyfriend.'"

"A battered boss!" she seethed up at him. "Now you give me back my pay, you git!"

They tussled a bit more until Severus let her think she'd pushed him off of her.

Now that had been fun, and Hermione had a temper. Snape found he liked that.

Very much.

Soon Friday rolled around and Snape picked Hermione up from her apartment at six-thirty. They had to arrive early.

When the witch opened the door, she was wearing a large, voluminous traveling cloak that showed nothing of what she was wearing underneath. Snape was immaculate in black dress robes with embroidered serpents that were only visible when the light hit the fabric just right. There was an amazing amount of buttons. He wore a winter cloak over his garb.

The wizard looked down his nose at the witch's attire.

"Prepared for your 'grand entrance' I see," he purred at her.

"Yes, I am," Hermione agreed with a smile.

But what he could see of her looked lovely. She wore a hint of lipstick, mascara and rouge. Her makeup was understated, but very nicely applied. Her hair was swept up in an elegant roll held in place with an emerald green decorative comb, tendrils hanging on either side and she wore a pair of dangling emerald and platinum earrings. It wasn't hard to tell she was wearing Snape's house colors underneath that cloak.

"You look lovely, witch," he said to her, leaning in and kissing her lightly so as not to smear her lipstick.

Hermione smiled at him shyly.

"Thank you," she replied.

Snape gallantly offered her his arm.

"This may be a student dance, Hermione, but as far as I'm concerned, it will be you that is the proverbial 'Belle of the Ball,'" he said as she looped her arm through his.

Together, they left the site, disapparating to Hogwarts.

* * *

"How do I look, Rose?" Lily asked her cousin.

Rose, who had been leaning into the mirror and applying lipstick, turned to look at the second-year, who was dressed in a frilly blue gown, her hair nicely curled. Rose smiled.

"Aw, Lily you look . . ."

Suddenly Rose looked closer at Lily, who stared back at her, then looked down at her dress.

"What? Is something wrong?" the young witch asked her.

Rose scowled.

"Yes, there's something wrong!" she said, walking forward and reaching down the front of Lily's dress and pulling out two big wads of tissue. "What in the world are these?"

"Enhancements," Lily said, "I wanted to look more . . . grown up. Gowns look so much better when you have boobies."

"You have to grow your own," Rose snapped at her, then started laughing. "Really Lily, you're too much. Hugo's not going to care whether or not you have boobies, believe me."

"I'm not thinking about Hugo. There's going to be other wizards there," she said angrily.

Rose sighed.

"Lily, you're a second-year. You have no business thinking about wizards. They'll be on you soon enough. Enjoy your freedom," she said, tossing the tissue into the trash.

"I still think it looked better," the witch said, sitting down on the bed and looking at Rose. She looked beautiful in the gown, the shawl hanging from her arms, her auburn hair curled and framing her face.

"Wow. Rod's going to fall over when he sees you," Lily said to her, "You look great, Rose."

"Thanks," Rose replied, finishing putting on her make-up and idly wondering how Rod was making out.

* * *

Rod stood in the mirror studying himself, his blonde hair neatly cut and combed. His skin looked a lot better, having only a few small discolorations on it now. He adjusted his dress robes and turned a bit in the mirror. Yes, he really did look nice. He hoped Rose liked how he looked.

He looked at the crisp white trainers on his bed, then pulled his wand out of his sleeve and miniaturized them, putting them in his pocket. He was going to need them for the dance. He turned back to the mirror and gave himself one more look, plucking a piece of fluff off of the rich blue fabric.

"This is it," Rod said to himself, "It's all or nothing now."

He took a deep breath and headed out of his room.

It was time to pick up Rose.

* * *

Snape created quite a stir when he escorted Hermione into the Great Hall. The long house tables had been removed, and numerous round tables covered in festive red and green tablecloths with candle centerpieces surrounded by holly were strategically placed around the large open area that would serve as the dance floor. Against the far wall were several long tables full of punchbowls and foodstuffs, house elves flitting about making sure everything was perfect. The Great Hall itself was tastefully decorated with the usual Christmas bells and whistles.

Snape noticed with some satisfaction that there were no cherubs flitting about. Albus used to release them on every ball like a glittering, harp-plucking swarm. The wizard felt a little sting at the thought of the Headmaster. Even after all these years, he still missed the old manipulative wizard.

"Headmaster Snape!" Wumblewort gushed, rushing up to the wizard and ignoring Hermione completely as he pumped the wizard's hand enthusiastically. "I had no idea you were coming. This is wonderful!"

"Actually, I wouldn't have come if not for Mrs. Weasley inviting me to help her chaperone," the wizard replied, turning toward Hermione and removing her cloak.

It was as if the entire hall suddenly disappeared as his black eyes took her in. She was wearing a strapless green and silver sequined gown that displayed her soft shoulders, throat and décolletage beautifully. A platinum and emerald necklace rested on her throat, a match to her earrings. The gown was backless as well, showing her smooth skin almost to the delicious swell of her buttocks.

Snape stared at her. Dear gods, she was so lovely. Wumblewort stared at the both of them. It was quite obviously the dark wizard was smitten with the widow. Well, well. This ought to make for some interesting conversation around the punch bowl.

Snape stuffed Hermione's cloak into the Headmaster's hand as if he were a cloak boy.

"You look . . . delicious," he breathed at the witch, who blushed furiously at the desire in the wizard's silken voice. She looked at Wumblewort, embarrassed.

Snape saw the flush and immediately caught himself. He was acting like a smitten sixth-year. He scowled at Wumblewort. What was he still doing here? Snape removed his cloak and handed it to the wizard as well.

"Could you please see to our cloaks, Headmaster?" Snape said to him pointedly.

Wumblewort started.

"Oh yes, of course. Hopefully we can find some time to speak during the dance," he said to Snape, who frowned slightly.

"I am here with Mrs. Weasley, Headmaster. It would be rude indeed to abandon her to the students to chit-chat, especially since I am here to be of assistance to her," he replied rather snarkily.

Hermione sighed inwardly. Severus was snubbing the Headmaster.

"I see," Wumblewort said, clearly disappointed, "I'll just go see about these cloaks then. Enjoy the night, both of you."

He walked away.

"Severus! You didn't have to be so rude," Hermione chided him.

The wizard scowled.

"The man didn't even greet you, Hermione or thank you for coming. In my opinion, it was he who was rude, and I treated him accordingly. You do not become invisible because I am present," Snape responded. "Now, let us go and have some punch and get the layout of the room. We have to familiarize ourselves with the various dark niches and hidden spots if we are to be effective chaperones."

Snape had a lot of experience with chaperoning students. He intended to do a good job of it. He took Hermione's arm and guided her over to the punch table, his eyes resting on her from time to time as they walked.

Gods, she was beautiful.

As far as Severus Snape was concerned, Hermione Weasley really was the Belle of the Ball.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	63. The Ball

**Chapter 62 The Ball**

Hermione soon found out it was better to check the niches from a safe distance rather than to enter them with Severus. The first dark corner they entered, the wizard grabbed her and kissed her soundly, caressing the soft skin of her back appreciatively. It was the first bit of skin he had managed to get his hands on.

Hermione was surprised, then felt the Potions master's hands smoothing over her skin. His touch was sure and gentle but still very masculine . . . and very affecting, his fingertips moving over her vertebrate, shoulder blades, and shoulders, pressing, exploring as he pressed his lips to her mouth. She could feel small calluses on the tips of his fingers and on his palms. He had a working man's hands and those warm, slightly roughened hands on her body felt wonderful . . .

"Severus!" she gasped at him when he broke the kiss and released her. Whether it was because he had kissed her or because he had stopped, she wasn't sure. But she had to give some reaction. Besides, they could have been caught snogging like sixth years. Hermione would have died of embarrassment.

Snape made an exaggerated motion of looking around the Great Hall, although he never would have acted in such a manner if he believed they would be seen. He looked at Hermione, his dark eyes glinting.

"Just as I suspected. No one saw us. We definitely have to mark this area," he said to her with a small grin, "It is a potential snogging spot for certain."

Even though Hermione had enjoyed the kiss, she was determined not to let him know. It might encourage him and really get them caught. She could imagine Hugo's and Rose's reaction to their mum being publicly busted for kissing in a dark corner at a ball she was supposed to be chaperoning.

Rose: "Mum, how could you?"

Hugo: "Ew mum!"

"Ooh," Hermione said, storming out of the niche, Snape striding after her and catching her arm.

"We have more niches and shadows to investigate," he purred at her.

"I think the chaperones need chaperones," Hermione shot back at him, fighting the urge to smile at the wicked wizard. He was terrible and acting like a randy student himself. Who would have thought Severus Snape had this side to him?

Most likely he hadn't known it either, but Hermione brought out an increasing hunger in him and he couldn't help responding to it as much as she would allow. Now, if he was observed by someone else and his actions toward Hermione misconstrued as overall amicability, they would be sadly mistaken. This was a side of the Potions master meant only for Hermione. He would be as acerbic as ever to others and have no problem showing so. It wouldn't be an act. It was just how the wizard was. Wumblewort received a little taste of the wizard's coldness earlier. Snape might be falling in love, but was no one's buddy.

Hermione refused to enter anymore potential snogging spots after that, but Snape was satisfied. He'd gotten one good kiss in, and the night was still young. There would be other opportunities. She was too lovely not to kiss.

They continued around the Great Hall, Hermione and Severus greeting others as they identified the areas that would have to be watched. There were six other chaperones, eight all together. With the staff, the students would be covered as much as possible.

"The school medi-witch is going to need about a gallon of Morning After Potion," Snape said as the students began to enter the hall arm and arm, exclaiming at the decorations as soft music played. "Shagging and balls go together."

Hermione looked up at him sharply. Snape looked straight ahead, a small smirk on his face. Yes, he was being purposefully facetious.

Hermione looked at the door. She saw Hugo and Lily enter arm in arm. Hugo's red hair was neatly combed, and his black dress robes fit him nicely but his tie looked a little crooked. Hermione fought the urge to run over and straighten it for him.

"Aw, Hugo and Lily look so cute," Hermione gushed as Snape looked over at the two students.

"Don't make it a point to tell them that," he said, "or you'll be banished from all balls that follow this one."

"I know," Hermione snapped, "still, they're cute. I wonder where Rod and Rose are."

* * *

When Rose Weasley walked out of the portrait entrance, Rod was absolutely speechless. She was beautiful. There was no other word to describe her. Her hair was gently curling around her face, her gown was sparkling and fit her perfectly, and her shawl was elegantly draped over her arms. Rod stared at her as if she had just suddenly materialized. 

Rose blushed and smiled at him. He looked almost dashing in his rich blue robes. His blonde hair was nicely combed and he smelled quite nice.

"Hello Rod," she said softly, "You look very nice."

Rod continued to stare at Rose, unable to register she was speaking to him.

"Rod? Rod are you all right?" Rose asked, her brown eyes full of concern.

Just then Roland exited the tower. He looked Rod up and down with a frown on his face, then at Rose. He blinked.

"Wow Rose. You look gorgeous," the wizard said to her.

"Thank you," Rose said uncomfortably.

This served to wake Rod up.

"Hi Rose," he said lamely as Roland scowled at him.

"See you after the dance, Dormers," he growled then walked off.

Both Rod and Rose looked after him.

"What did he mean by that?" she asked Rod, who shrugged.

"I don't know. He hasn't tried anything since our last fight," Rod said, looking at Rose again, backing away to let several more students pass. They looked at Rod, particularly the witches.

"He cleans up good, doesn't he?" one of the witches said as they passed.

"Yeah. He almost doesn't look 'Odd,'" another commented.

Rod moved back and looked at Rose again.

"That gown is . . . is nice, Rose," he said, trying to be complimentary. His tongue felt twice its normal size.

"Thank you, Rod. Your robes are nice too. I like the color," she said.

Rod gave her a relieved smile and stood there awkwardly.

"I think we should go, Rod," Rose suggested.

"Oh. Oh yeah," he said, turning and starting up the corridor. Rose looked after him, frowning slightly.

Rod suddenly realized he was walking alone and turned around, hurrying back to Rose, who offered her arm to him, her mouth quirking a bit.

"Oh. Sorry. I'm new at all this, Rose," he said, reddening as he took her arm and mentally cursed himself for being so stupid as to leave his date behind him. He was supposed to be escorting her to the ball.

Rose thought Rod was adorable, he was so nervous. They started walking up the corridor together.

"You're doing fine Rod. At least you realized I wasn't with you before you made it to the Great Hall," she said with an encouraging smile.

"Yeah," he said, "At least."

They walked up the hall in silence for a bit, then Rod said, "You know, I'm pretty nervous about this Rose. I want you to have a good time. I hope you didn't make a mistake going with me."

Rose smiled at him and patted his hand.

"I don't think I did, Rod. I really don't. You're sweet," the witch said.

Rod looked at her. Sweet? She thought he was sweet? Wow.

"Thanks," he said, flushing a little.

The couple made their way down the main stairwell, joining a stream of laughing, talking students heading for the Great Hall. He saw James and Winston with their dates and waved. They waved back and waited for he and Rose to approach them. They then introduced their dates. Winston was with a Ravenclaw named Sharon Birdwell, a very pretty black witch with long black hair and James with a Gryffindor witch named Anita Coswell, a sixth-year with big blue eyes, blonde hair and curves for miles.

"Nice robes, Rodman," Winston said appreciatively. He was dressed in maroon robes that matched his date's gown. She wore a corsage on her wrist. So did James' date.

Damn. He hadn't thought about getting Rose one.

"Thanks, Winston," he said, smiling at the wizard.

"Wow, Rose. You look halfway decent," James said to his cousin, looking her up and down. "Too bad it didn't come with a veil."

"Shut up, James" she snapped at him as the others laughed, with the exception of Rod, who stood there a moment, then blurted out, "Well I think she looks beautiful."

Everyone stopped laughing and looked at Rod in astonishment. Rose smiled at him.

"Thank you, Rod," she said, pointedly looking at James then sticking her tongue out at him. "Let's go in."

She led Rod through the door, her nose in the air.

"Well I'll be damned," James said, shaking his head, then taking Anita's arm gallantly, following them in, Winston and his date behind. They all sat at the same table and were joined by Hugo and Lily.

"Hey Rod! Nice robes," Hugo said, smiling brightly.

"Hi Hugo," Rod responded. Again introductions were made.

Several Slytherins walked by with their dates, scowling at Rod sitting at a table with Gryffindors. No one noticed however.

"They really made this place look great," Rose said, looking at all the decorations.

"Yeah," Rod agreed.

Winston stood up.

"Excuse me a moment," he said, leaving.

James watched as the wizard walked over to the DJ and handed him some coins and a disk. The wizard turned the disk over in his hands, then nodded. He had played the Christmas ball for the past three years and knew about James' and Winston's routines. The wizard made his way back to the table.

"We're all set," he said with a smile at Rod, who looked a little nervous.

"Hey Hugo, isn't that your mum? Who's she with?" Lily said, pointing over at the punch table. Everyone looked in that direction to see Hermione standing with Snape, looking over the crowd of students.

"Wow, that's Professor Snape. He came with her," Hugo said.

Rose stared at the tall, severe looking wizard. He looked a bit like a hawk watching for prey as his eyes washed warily over the students. Suddenly, his eyes shifted in her direction and he made eye contact. He nodded.

Rose nodded back and watched as he leaned slightly and said something to Hermione, who immediately looked in Rose's direction and waved animatedly at all of them.

"Mum sure looks nice," Hugo said. "That dress is sparkly."

Rose studied her mother's dress. She did look nice and kind of sexy too, in an older witch kind of way. The Professor was dressed nicely too. He stood very stiffly however. He seemed so cold and reserved. How did they get along? Dad was always a lot of fun. Snape was nothing like him.

Rod was looking over at the Professor too. He wanted to thank him for the bonus. He looked at Rose.

"Rose, would you like some punch?" he asked her.

"Oh yes. Thank you, Rod," the witch replied.

"I'll be right back," he said rising and leaving the table.

James' and Winston's dates looked at the two wizards pointedly as they whispered to each other, planning their takeover of the dance floor. Finally, both witches cleared their throats. Both boys looked over at them, then rose quickly.

"Punch?" James asked Anita.

"Yes," she said shortly, her eyes a bit narrowed. James was a great guy, but easily distracted. If he wasn't so cute, she'd dump him.

"Punch, Sharon?" Winston asked her with a grin.

"Why yes, thank you," she said, then punched the wizard in the arm hard for ignoring her.

"Ow!" he cried, grasping his arm.

"And I'd like something to drink too," she added sweetly.

"I deserved that," Winston said as he rubbed his arm, "I'll be right back."

Both he and James walked off, heading for the punch table. Hugo rose.

"Come on, Lily. Let's walk around a bit before they serve the food," he said to his cousin.

"All right," Lily said, standing up and following Hugo into the crowd.

Anita and Sharon immediately turned to Rose.

"Are you going out with Odd Rod?" they asked her.

Rose looked at the witches.

"His name is Rod, not Odd Rod, and no I'm not. We just came to the dance together," she said to the witches, frowning slightly.

"Did you lose a bet or something?" Sharon asked her.

"No," Rose said, puzzled, "Why would you say that?"

Sharon shrugged.

"I just didn't think anyone would want to go to the dance with him," she said, looking at Anita who nodded slightly, "But I know he saved your life, so you probably felt obligated to go when he asked you."

Rose frowned at them.

"Rod is a nice wizard. I'm glad I came with him. And he's a gentleman. You can't say the same about James and Winston. They didn't think about you at all. At least Rod went to get me a drink without me having to clear my throat," she said with a bit of an attitude.

The girls all fell silent then. Rose looked over to see Rod talking to Professor Snape.

"Hello Professor Snape," Rod said, walking up to the wizard, "Hello Mrs. Weasley."

"Hi Rod. You look very handsome," Hermione said, smiling at the young wizard.

"Thank you," he said, flushing a little, "You look nice too, Mrs. Weasley."

Snape arched an eyebrow at the boy as Hermione smiled at him. Rod was adorable..

"You need to work on your compliments, Mr. Dormers. That was just sad," the dark wizard commented

"I haven't had a lot of practice complimenting witches," Rod replied.

"It was just fine, Rod," Hermione said, glaring at Severus, who looked at her coolly for a moment then back at Rod.

"I . . . I just wanted to thank you for the bonus, sir," Rod said to the wizard.

"You are quite welcome, but it is standard procedure for the company to issue incentives to its employees, Mr. Dormers. It was not a gift, so there is no need to thank me," Snape said to the boy curtly. "It was business. Just be sure to show up to work the day after graduation."

"Yes sir," Rod said, then, "I have to get Rose some punch. Have a nice evening."

Rod moved over to the punch bowl and retrieved a cup of punch for Rose. He began to carefully move through the crowd. From a table filled with other dateless Gryffindors, Roland watched him with narrowed eyes. He was more than jealous. Rose looked so hot and she was out with Rod. It just wasn't right or fair.

Snape looked over toward the table and noticed Winston standing very close to the punch bowl but not getting any punch. The young wizard's right arm moved slightly.

Silently, Snape strode over and stood behind him.

"Excuse me young man," he said imperiously.

Winston spun and looked up at the pale wizard and blanched.

"Yes sir?" Winston said, dropping his hand. He had been about to take out a flask of firewhiskey from his inside robes pocket.

Snape studied him.

"You look familiar boy. What's your name?" the wizard asked him in a soft yet dangerous voice.

Winston swallowed.

"Ah Winston, sir. Winston Thomas," he replied.

Snape's brow arched.

"You wouldn't happen to be the son of Dean Thomas would you?" he asked the boy.

"Yes sir," Winston asked.

Snape smirked a bit unpleasantly, his eyes flicking to Winston's lapel for a moment before he met the boy's gaze steadily, his eyes knowing.

"I see genetics carry over in your family. Your father and a Mr. Seamus Finnigan were notorious for spiking the punch at affairs of this nature when they attended Hogwarts. I will have my eye on you, Mr. Thomas. Now move away from the bowl. Now," Snape said to him.

"Yes sir," Winston said, trembling a bit as he picked up Sharon's punch and quickly walked away. Snape sauntered back over to Hermione, who looked up at him.

"What were you doing?" she asked the wizard.

"Attempting to keep history from repeating itself," he replied obliquely.

If Winston was anything like his father, however, Snape knew he was fighting a losing battle. Still, he liked a challenge.

Winston returned with Sharon's punch and sat down at the table, looking over in Snape's direction, still a bit ashen.

"What's wrong with you?" James asked him.

"That Snape guy is scary," Winston said, "He knew I was going to spike the punch before I even grabbed the flask. He said he knew my father too."

"My dad knows him," James said, looking over at Snape, "My little brother is named after him."

Rose suddenly looked around.

"Where is Albus anyway?" she asked.

"He's sitting with some other dateless Gryffindors," James said, pointing to a table where a group of wizards were crowded, joking and laughing with each other, stopping occasionally to watch a witch pass then whispering among themselves. Roland was looking directly at their table.

"Oh," Rose said as Rod finally made it back. It was slow going with the punch and people were greeting him along the way, impressed by his appearance.

"Here you go, Rose. Sorry it took so long," Rod said apologetically as he placed the cup in front of her, then sat down. The moment he did, Wumblewort magically enhanced his voice and told everyone to be seated.

Everyone listened as he welcomed them to the dance and instructed them to enjoy themselves.

"Providing our music tonight is DJ Whizzy Whiz!" he announced, as the wizard on a special high dais waved to the crowd and did a quick scratch on his magical turntable. "We will initially begin with a few waltzes, and as the evening continues move to a more popular musical line up."

James and Winston both smiled and nodded at Rod, who looked a little apprehensive.

"In addition, I would like to thank our chaperones, Mr. & Mrs. Montlemore, Mr. & Mrs. Argyle, Mr. & Colberry along with Mrs. Weasley and our very special guest, former Headmaster Severus Snape," Wumblewort said as a spotlight moved over the chaperones and finally ended up resting on Snape, who was seated at a table and scowled at everyone as Hermione shook her head. The applause died quickly.

Hugo laughed.

"Oh man, he's funny," the boy chuckled.

Menus suddenly appeared in front of them.

"Just choose your selections and they will appear before you. Everyone enjoy themselves," Wumblewort said.

Students, staff and chaperones ordered their meals and began to eat.

* * *

After about an hour, the tables were cleared and the music started. Both James and Winston looked very bored at the classical waltz that was playing. No one was getting up but staff members. 

Rod swallowed and looked at Rose, who was staring at the floor. He cleared his throat.

"Um, Rose . . . would you like to dance?" he asked the witch nervously.

Rose looked at the floor. There were only teachers out there. Not a single student. Nobody wanted to be first.

"Go on Rose. Me and Lily will go if you do," Hugo urged her, "You made Rod learn to waltz . . . now go waltz."

Rose looked at Rod, who looked back at her anxiously.

"All right," she said.

Rod quickly stood up and pulled Rose's chair out for her, holding out his arm.

From his table Snape watched him, his eyes narrowed.

Hugo and Lily also got up as Rose took Rod's arm and he walked her to the dance floor. His heart was pounding as he passed by the other students, whispering starting.

"Is that Odd Rod leading Rose on to the floor?"

"What's he doing?"

"Oh man, this ought to be a hoot!"

Rod took Rose to the center of the floor, placed on hand on her waist and grasped her hand. His palms were a bit hot and sweaty. He looked Rose in the eyes.

"Are you ready, Rose?" he asked her.

Hugo and Lily were already dancing, but every eye was on the two older students. Hermione watched them breathlessly. They looked so nice together, Rose tall and slender and Rod dashing in his blue dress robes.

"Yes, let's do it Rod," she said.

And they began to dance.

The moment they began to move, Rod began to relax, gliding with Rose across the floor as if he had done it for years, occasionally spinning the witch and even giving her a perfectly beautiful dip, before drawing her back up and continuing.

Everyone watched mesmerized as the couple danced on air. Even the teachers were watching them.

As Rod danced with Rose, it was as if there was some magic washing over him. She was so pretty and smiling, enjoying dancing with him. This was great. The greatest thing that ever happened to him, outside of everything else that is.

Roland watched them, his face black with rage as Rod led Rose rhythmically around the floor, twirling her now, the couple smiling at each other, very into the dance. Other students joined them and soon they were lost among the crowd.

Snape looked at Hermione who was watching the dancing wistfully. He leaned forward.

"May I have this dance, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked her softly.

Hermione looked shocked.

"You dance, Severus?" she asked him.

Snape felt the urge to pinch his nose. He was really going to have to talk to her about her irritating habit of trying to make him repeat himself.

"Yes. Will you join me on the floor?" he asked her again.

Hermione smiled at him.

"I'd be delighted," she said.

Snape rose and pulled out the witch's chair, taking her hand and helping her up, then offering his arm. Hermione took it, and together they walked out on the dance floor. They flowed seamlessly into the dance, the wizard leading the witch gracefully, his dark eyes resting on her face soberly as they danced.

Rose saw them whirl by, the wizard's eyes resting on her mother intensely as Hermione looked back up at him.

"Professor Snape can dance, can't he?" Rod said to Rose.

"Yes, he really can. Mum seems to be enjoying herself," Rose said, then looked at Rod, "And so am I."

Rod smiled at her, then, Rose rested her head on his shoulder, their bodies coming in contact. Rod held her just a bit tighter.

It felt rather nice.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	64. Rod Goes for It

**Chapter 63 Rod Goes For It**

Now that the first waltz was over, the dateless wizards made their moves, cutting in on the couples and getting to dance with witches they'd never have a chance with under normal circumstances. Since it was a dance and considered rude to refuse, there were quite a few unhappy witches.

Rod lost Rose on the second dance to a pimply-faced red-haired wizard with very large glasses. He had to wait two more dances before he could get her back, since Rose looked so nice and two more wizards cut in. When he did manage to reclaim his date, Rose gave a relieved sigh.

"That's the only thing I hate about dances. You have to dance with everyone," she complained.

Rod stopped dancing with her, looking concerned.

"How about you take a rest?" he said to the witch. She hadn't sat down since the music began.

"That sounds good," Rose replied gratefully.

Rod was just about to turn and walk her to their table when someone jabbed him hard in the shoulder. It was Roland.

"May I cut in?" he asked, but it didn't sound much like a question. It was more of a demand.

Rod looked at the big wizard evenly.

"Rose was just about to take a break and sit down," he said to Roland.

"No she wasn't," Roland growled at him, trying to move between Rod and Rose. Rod blocked his way.

"Um, Rod, I can just have one more dance," Rose said softly, trying to defuse the situation.

Roland tried to slide past Rod again.

Winston, who was dancing with Sharon, saw the big wizard standing off with Rod and quickly maneuvered closer.

"No Rose," Rod said, taking her arm. "You're tired. You don't have to dance if you don't want to. And you're MY date. I'm supposed to look after you."

He emphasized the word "my" as he looked at Roland darkly.

Winston danced up.

"Anything wrong, Rodman?" he asked, his brown eyes resting on Roland with dislike. Sharon was tense in his arms. She hoped they didn't start brawling.

"No. Rose and I were just going to sit down," Rod said, then pushed past Roland, who turned and watched the wizard guide Rose to their table, pull out her chair and help her sit down.

"Remember what you promised, Roland," Winston said to him.

Roland looked at Winston with narrowed eyes.

"I remember," he said and stalked off, Winston looking after him. Sharon looked at Winston curiously.

"What's going on?" she asked the wizard.

Winston looked down at her and his eyes softened. Sharon was a beautiful witch. Maybe he'd get lucky tonight after he showed his stuff. He pulled her closer.

"Nothing you need to worry about," he said, whirling away with her.

Rod retrieved another class of punch for Rose and a small piece of cake in case she was hungry. He set the glass and the napkin with the cake on it in front of her and sat down.

"Thank you, Rod," she said to him.

"You're welcome," he replied, then said, "I'm sorry about what happened out there, but I know you were tired."

"It's all right, Rod," she said, giving him a soft smile, "Actually, I thought it was very gallant of you."

Rod flushed a little.

"I wasn't trying to be gallant. I just didn't want Roland bullying you into a dance," he said.

"It still was sweet," Rose replied, looking at him intensely.

Rod blinked at her, not knowing what to say to this, but he was saved from the awkward moment by James and Anita. James sat down without pulling out Anita's chair and looked at Rod excitedly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out miniaturized white trainers.

"This is it, Rod. After this song ends, it's our turn," he said, pulling out his wand and enlarging the trainers.

"What are you doing?" Anita demanded, sitting down with a huff.

"You'll see," James said to her, removing his shoes.

Rod took out his own trainers as Winston joined them with Sharon. At least he pulled out her chair for her before he too pulled out trainers, enlarged them and proceeded to put them on. Then they all took off their robes, the eyes of their dates widening as they saw they didn't have on dress shirts under them, but white wifebeaters.

"Now, we need you girls to stand directly in front of us, but spaced out a little at the front of the crowd," James instructed, "Rose you stand in the middle."

"Why?" she asked, looking at Rod who was quite pale.

"Rose, just do it," James said as the DJ waved at Winston and let the waltz fade.

"Clear the floor everybody!" the DJ announced. "We're having a little intermission."

Everyone looked up at the DJ, then slowly cleared the floor, the lights dimming for a moment.

"Come on," James said excitedly.

Everyone got up from the table, moving through the students, the three witches stopping on the edge of the crowd as James, Rod and Winston walked to the center of the floor and lined up, Rod in the middle, his heart pounding. Gods, he hoped he didn't mess up.

Suddenly, music started and everyone looked back at the dance floor which lit up again, showing James, Rod and Winston standing there, looking at the floor, bobbing their heads and snapping their fingers to the beat in unison.

"Is that Odd Rod out there?" a male voice said incredulously.

"What's he doing dancing with them?" someone else called out.

* * *

**GO TO theburningpen . com version for STREAMING INTERACTIVE MUSIC**

* * *

Rose's heart was pounding too as she looked at Rod standing between the other two wizards. But he certainly was keeping up. 

"What's going on?" Hermione asked as Severus eyed the three young men, who began to skip back and forth weaving through each other in an intricate pattern. The crowd began to hoot and clap as the boys fell into the dance.

"It appears we're going to get a show," the wizard responded, noting that Rod hadn't taken his advice about dressing appropriately under his robes.

"Whooooo!" Hugo called as the boys dropped to the floor on their backs, catching themselves on their hands and kicking up their legs, then flipped to their fronts in a push up position and bounced about in rhythm, actually clearing each others bodies as they switched positions then leapt up and in unison began to dance in step.

Rod was in his element the moment the music started, his nervousness flying out the window, buoyed onward by the appreciative yells of the crowd. They flipped, kicked, spun and did partial handstands then joined hands and did the ripple, beginning with James who flexed his arms, the motion going through Rod to Winston, who flipped the motion back through Rod ending up with James. Then they all spun out, sliding toward Anita, Rose and Sharon, throwing their hands behind their heads and giving them a little bump and grind that made all the witches in the vicinity shriek in appreciation as they danced back, Rod smiling broadly at the shocked look on Rose's face. Then she grinned at him.

They then launched into an updated version of a line dance, hooking their thumbs into their trouser loops, but it was far more rhythmic, with a couple of tumbles involved before they leapt to their feet.

The musical interlude came that announced the freestyle part, and James went first, falling into break dancing, his legs flying so fast it looked as if someone had cast the Tarantella spell on him. He ended it with a powerful back spin, ending up somehow on his head with his legs folded over, stock still.

Everyone screamed.

Then Winston went, also doing a break-dance with a few flips and contortions that seemed almost impossible to execute, his legs tangling and untangling, then falling forward and spinning on one hand, the crowd going wild.

Then it was Rod's turn, but he didn't start out with break-dance. The wizard began flexing and popping his body in a robotic manner, snaking down to the floor and up again, before jumping into a handstand and kicking his legs up and down in rhythm first, then his entire body before flipping over, landing on his feet, then also break dancing, spinning one leg in a large circle and hopping over it with his other before rolling forward and doing an awesome head spin, his arms actually extended so he looked like a whirling dervish. Then he leapt up and joined James and Winston in line and they started dancing in unison again, the students all yelling, whistling and clapping.

When the song ended, all three wizards charged toward their dates, falling to their knees and sliding forward, ending up at their feet, looking up at them, their chests heaving.

Rose looked down on Rod, who was panting heavily as he looked up at her. She shook her head.

"Wow, Rod, that was . . . that was amazing," she said to him.

"Thanks," he panted, rising to his feet.

In a moment he was surrounded by witches, Rose disappearing for a moment in the crowd as they swooned over him.

"We didn't know you could dance, Rod!"

"Can I get a dance later?"

"Could you show me that little step you did when . . .

"Now just wait a minute!" Rose yelled, pushing through the witches with a scowl, "Back off! Rod's my date! Move it!"

Anita and Sharon were going through their own little crowd control issues, Sharon actually pushing a witch away from a grinning Winston. Wizards were there too, patting the boys on the back.

Rose grabbed Rod by the hand and pulled him away from the witches and back over to their table, sitting him down then sitting next to him, scowling at all the young women looking over at them.

"Really. They act like you don't exist the entire time you're at Hogwarts and now they all want to spend some time with you, just because you can dance," she grumbled.

Rod looked completely shocked at this. Witches wanted to spend time with him now? Man. He looked over at the girls, and a few waved little finger waves at him. Rose's scowl grew darker.

Hugo came bouncing over.

"Wow, Rod. That was great! I never saw moves like that before!" he said, sitting next to the wizard and smiling at him.

"Thanks. I made them up myself," Rod said to him, smiling.

"Rod, what are you doing for the Christmas holidays?" Hugo asked him suddenly.

Rod looked at him.

"Nothing. I'm staying here at the castle," he said to the wizard, "I always stay here."

"My grandmum said you can spend Christmas with us if you want to," James said enthusiastically, "There'll be lots of food and presents and everything. We always have a great time, Rod. Want to come?"

Rod looked at Hugo, then Rose. Spend time with their family? He didn't know any of them. He looked doubtful.

"James is going to be there too," Hugo said, trying to encourage him, "And my uncles. It'll be fun, Rod. Won't you come?"

Rose looked at Rod, who sat there a moment, then said, "I don't think so Hugo. I'll feel out of place."

Hugo's face fell.

"But you won't be out of place, Rod. Everybody feels welcome at grandmum's house," he said to Rod in a final effort to get him to change his mind.

But things were happening a bit too fast for Rod. He was happy about the changes that had happened in his life, but the truth was he was used to being by himself and the thought of suddenly being thrown in the middle of a family celebration was a bit scary. Besides, he wasn't part of their family. Christmas was for family. He didn't want to intrude.

"I don't think so, Hugo," he said again, hating to disappoint the young wizard, but he just couldn't do it.

"It's all right, Rod. But I'll bring you a present when we come back," Rose said to him. She didn't think he'd go to the Burrow anyway.

A present. Gods, he'd have to get her one too. And Hugo.

"All right," he said, looking at Hugo again, who looked absolutely despondent. He had been sure Rod would go to the Burrow.

"I'm sorry Hugo, but I'll be all right here. I'm used to it," he said to him, "And I'll see you when you get back."

Hugo sighed.

"All right," he said, his blue eyes sad.

Suddenly the DJ's voice sounded.

"Now, our next song goes back, way back into time . . . long before any of you were even a twinkle in your dads' eyes. The year is 1994, the group is the 69 Boyz, and the dance is called the Tootsie Roll and will be led by Rod Dormers. So get on up and get on down!"

Rod looked shocked as James and Winston grinned at him from the dance floor.

They had set him up.

"Tootsie Roll? What's that?" Rose asked Rod as he stood up.

"It's a kind of group dance. It's easy," he said, "Are you going to come?"

Rose looked over at all the grinning witches waiting for Rod to pass through them.

"You're damn right I'm coming," she said darkly, standing up and taking his arm, glaring at the witches as they approached.

* * *

**GO TO theburningpen . com version for STREAMING INTERACTIVE MUSIC**

* * *

Rose helped Rod get through the smiling, swooning witches as he walked on to the dance floor. He was going to kill James and Winston, who were cracking up on the sidelines. A spotlight fell on Rod and the music started. 

He caught the rhythm and began to oddly draw his knees together and outward to the music almost as if they were butterfly wings.

The vocalist called out "Cotton candy sweet to go, let me see your tootsie roll!"

Then thumping, jazzy music came on and everyone started moving to the compelling music

Around Rod, others started imitating his movements a bit, then James and Winston joined him.

_To the left! To the left! To the right! To the right! To the front! To the front! To the back! To the back! Now slide baby, slide! Slide baby slide!_

Hugo ran out on the floor and started following their steps and their motions.

"Come on, Rose!" he called to his sister, who joined them, standing next to Rod and smiling as she caught on to the dance. But when she rolled her tootsie, she really rolled it. Rod was quite impressed. Others joined them and pretty soon the dance floor was filled with students rolling their tootsies.

"I know this dance!" Hermione squealed, watching the students as she bounced in her seat. Suddenly she stood up.

"I'm going to go dance, Severus. Want to come?" she asked the dark wizard who looked at her incredulously.

"I won't ever 'roll my tootsie,'" he stated flatly, "Besides, they all look like they are doing some kind of tribal dance. It's scandalous."

Hermione grinned at him. Well she was about to get scandalous too.

Rose was dancing with Rod when she saw her mum join the dance, following the steps perfectly, rolling her arms and twisting her knees, her hair bouncing.

"Mum!" she said, surprised.

"Hi Rose," Hermione said, stepping to the right, then the left in time with the music. She was really very good at it.

Hugo danced up.

"Go mum! Go!" he grinned at her, dancing with her. Then the "Let me see your tootsie roll" part came on and Hermione began bouncing her bum in a very alarming manner that was attracting quite a lot of attention from the young wizards around her.

"Stop mum! Stop!" Hugo cried as Hermione laughed.

Severus was watching Hermione dance from the table, his eyes on her undulating body. She was better than most of the young witches out there, and certainly, from his standpoint much sexier.

And she certainly could roll her tootsie.

Even Wumblewort was on the dance floor trying to keep up with the youngsters, having been dragged down from the dais by a crowd of giggling witches, protesting the entire time. But it was clear the wizard was having fun. He wasn't all bad. In fact, much of the staff were rolling their tootsies, or trying to. There'd be a lot of hot water bottles pressed to sore backs in the morning.

Rod was dancing behind Rose, his hands on her waist as they stepped left, right, front to back then dipped baby dipped. He was having more fun than he ever had in his life. He was very glad Hugo had asked Rose to go to the dance with him.

This was a night he'd never forget as long as he lived.

Roland watched the blonde wizard dancing with Rose from the dateless table, furious and jealous. So, Rod had a talent and everyone thought he was great now. Well, he wasn't so fucking great. Roland would prove it too . . . when he beat him to a pulp after the dance.

* * *

A/N: For those of you who would actually like to see the "Tootsie Roll" dance, you can see the video on Youtube . com. Just type in "Tootsie Roll" in the search and click the 69 Boyz version. I can see the students doing this. Lol. Fanfiction site readers, if you'd like to hear the music to this chapter go to my homepage at theburningpen . com to the "A New Beginning" link and go to the last chapter posted. Thanks for reading 


	65. The Ball Ends

**Chapter 64 The Ball Ends**

The song ended and a winded Hermione walked back over to the table and Severus, who arched an eyebrow at the panting witch. He had retrieved a glass of punch for her and it was waiting in front of her seat. The wizard rose and pulled her chair out, and Hermione plopped down in it, picking up her punch with one hand and fanning herself with the other.

"Well, you can 'roll your tootsie' with the best of them I see," the wizard purred at her, "That was quite a performance."

Hermione looked at him.

"So I take it you approve of my dancing?" she asked the wizard, her punch poised before her.

Snape gave her a small smirk.

"I'd approve of it more in private," he responded, causing Hermione to blush. Then she took a sip of her punch. She coughed and looked down into it.

"This isn't just punch," she said, gasping.

"No. I imagine it isn't. That little spectacle caused enough distraction for Mr. Thomas to do the dirty deed. I might have been more vigilant if you and your tootsie had remained seated," he said.

"But, but we should remove the bowl," Hermione declared.

Snape shook his head and pointed at the table where the staff were liberally pouring cups of punch and toasting each other.

"It's a bit of an unwritten law here that if the students manage to spike the punch, it stays spiked, though the staff tries to drink the majority of it. But now, it's time to go to work. All the bouncing around combined with the punch is the equivalent of a room-wide lust potion," the wizard said, rising, "Randy students will abound in a few minutes. We'll only be able to postpone the inevitable, however. There will be shagging, you can count on it."

He pulled out Hermione's chair and the couple spent the rest of the evening pulling students out of dark corners, from under tables and apart on the dance floor when they got a bit too close as in shagging while standing up with their clothes on.

The staff was little help. Wumblewort's hat was on crooked and he was red-faced with laughter as he sat at the dais listening to something his Transfiguration teacher was telling him. It was easy to see he was a bit lit.

Rod and Rose had quite a few more dances, Rod back in his dress robes now. Rose had to give the wizard up several times to witches who kept cutting in. She was kept pretty busy too, but wasn't as fun to dance with for the wizards because it was so obvious she was keeping an eye on Rod, who at one time had three witches dancing around him, shaking their galleon-makers.

Rose stormed over and pulled him out of the midst of the little hussies, leaving her partner standing alone on the floor before he picked up one of the witches that had been dancing with Rod.

"Thanks," he said as the witch scowled at him. He looked a little confused.

"Are you mad?" he asked Rose.

"Furious," she replied as they danced.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically.

Rose looked at him and lost her scowl. It wasn't Rod's fault.

"Oh, it's not your fault, Rod. It's just that not one of those girls liked you before, and now they're throwing themselves at you. And you're not used to that," she said to him.

That was an understatement.

"No, I'm not," Rod admitted, "But I guess I'll get used to it."

Now Rose scowled at him again.

"Yeah, I bet you will," she said, then fell silent.

Rod looked at the stony expression on Rose's face, wondering what he'd said to make her get so mad. He didn't have a clue she was jealous. Why would he think she'd be jealous of him? Rose was very attractive and could probably go out with any wizard she wanted.

Slowly, the students were leaving the dance, some couples parting separately, planning on meeting someplace clandestine afterwards. Hermione watched them departing, frowning as the staff continued partying.

"Aren't they going to escort them back to their houses?" she asked Severus, who shook his head.

"No. And we are only here to chaperone the ball itself, not patrol the halls of Hogwarts looking for rutting students. Those witches who have the presence of mind to return unsullied to their rooms will make it there . . . the others . . . well they will make it there too, eventually," the wizard said, looking down at the witch and wishing he himself were in that situation.

"That's awful," Hermione breathed, looking for Rose.

"That's a rite of passage, Hermione. It's been going on since this school was erected centuries ago," Snape responded.

Finally Rose and Rod left the dance floor, Rod retrieving Rose's shawl and draping it over her shoulders.

Snape noticed them.

"Your daughter is leaving," he told Hermione, who looked over at Rose and Rod.

"I believe Rose will make it back to Gryffindor tower without being 'Slytherinized.' Rod is not at that point yet. He's still working on his social skills," the dark wizard said to the witch.

Hermione fought the urge to go over and say goodbye. She'd see Rose soon since they were leaving for the Burrow tomorrow. It was decided they would spend the first week there and the second with her at the worksite. They would all get together on Christmas day.

"Severus, what are you going to do for Christmas?" she asked the wizard suddenly.

"Nothing in particular. Christmas has no special meaning for me," Snape responded, "I've spent it alone for two decades and before that, I spent it in the dungeons, usually with Vivaldi and a bottle of Firewhiskey."

"Maybe you can come to the Burrow with me," Hermione suggested, but the way the wizard looked at her killed that idea dead. Snape didn't say it, but he didn't believe he would be too welcomed by her deceased husband's family. It would be in bad taste as well.

"No, not a good idea," she said, "But I have to be there. It's Christmas."

"I understand completely," the wizard said, "You can't break tradition, Hermione, nor would I want you to."

The couple fell silent as they made a few more rounds of the Great Hall. Most of the students were gone and the staff was packing it in as well. Finally, the last students departed.

Snape had a time getting a rather inebriated Wumblewort to tell him where their cloaks were, but finally they were located and he and Hermione were able to depart the castle. It was quite cold. When they first arrived, it wasn't quite so cold and they walked across the grounds. Hermione shivered and Snape pulled her close to his body.

"Hold on to me," he said softly, then disapparated.

He and a startled Hermione appeared in front of the worksite.

"You disapparated," Hermione said, amazed, "On the Hogwarts grounds. No one is supposed to be able to do that!"

"I and Albus were the only two who could. I had to be able to apparate because there were times I was so badly injured by the Dark Lord I could have died at the gates," he said to the witch, his dark eyes washing over her. "I had an enjoyable night."

"So did I," Hermione said softly, "Would you like to come in and warm yourself for a moment."

Snape looked at her intensely.

"I don't believe that wise, Hermione, unless you are ready to have me stay," he said honestly, "The combination of you in that delicious gown and my desire for you is one that nearly guarantees I would not be leaving your presence until morning. Are you ready for that, witch?"

The hunger in the wizard's eyes was both exciting and frightening as he waited for her answer. A part of her wanted to let him come in, but a tiny part was still afraid.

"It's all right," Snape said softly at her hesitance, "Your hesitance speaks louder than your words ever could. I don't want to pressure you, Hermione, I want you to accept me of your own accord, because you feel a need to be closer to me, not because I seduce you, tempting as that thought is. I am willing to wait if I must. And it appears that I must."

"I'm sorry, Severus," Hermione said, her voice low.

"Don't be. I believe I've waited all my life for a witch like you. I can wait a little longer, although I hope not too much longer," he said, drawing her into his arms and kissing her gently, warming her cold lips.

When he pulled away, Hermione looked up at him, a hesitant question in her eyes.

"What is it, witch?" he asked her, still holding her in his arms.

"Are . . . are you always so gentle, Severus?" she asked him.

The wizard quirked an eyebrow at her for a moment, not quite understanding what she meant. Then he saw the underlying anxiousness in her eyes and immediately knew everything.

"I'm not a monster, Hermione," he said softly, "I'm a man like any other man and willing to be what you need me to be in every way possible."

He kissed her again, still gentle, hoping to reassure the witch. Then he let her go.

"It's best you go in," he said to her.

"All right. Good night, Severus. I had a wonderful time," she said to him.

"As did I. Good night Hermione Weasley," he said as the door suddenly opened.

Hermione slowly walked inside, the female voice announcing her. She looked back over her shoulder at the pale wizard standing in the doorway, his dark eyes resting on her, then the door closed.

Snape stood there for a moment, then disapparated.

Hermione took about three steps, then turned and rushed back to the foyer. The door opened and she ran out into the night.

But Severus was gone.

* * *

Rod slowly walked Rose to Gryffindor tower. Both of them were rather silent. Then Rod heard someone call his name. It was Winston. Sharon was with him and looked thoroughly dazed and snogged.

"Rodman, listen," Winston said to him, "Be careful. Roland is going to try and get you tonight. Hex the hell out of him."

"What?" Rose said, "Roland's going to what?"

Rod looked thoughtful.

"So that's what he meant when he said he'd see me after the dance," Rod said.

Rose looked at him with wide eyes.

"Rod, I can walk the rest of the way to Gryffindor house myself. Roland's probably waiting up there for you to bring me," she said to the wizard.

Rod shook his head.

"No. You're not walking back yourself. What kind of date would I be if I did that?" he asked her.

"One without bruises the next morning," Rose replied, her eyes full of concern. "Roland's only doing this because of me. You never did anything to him. He's just jealous. I don't want you to get hurt. Just go back to Slytherin house. I had a great time, I really did."

Rod shook his head again.

"If I avoid him tonight, I'll be avoiding him for the rest of the year, Rose. I'm not going to run away from this. I have to face him," the blonde wizard said.

"I say blast him, even if he doesn't have his wand out. You're a Slytherin, Rod. It's expected of you," Winston encouraged him.

"I'll figure it out, Winston," Rod said, "Thanks for telling me."

Rod turned to walk away and found Rose stalled.

She looked at Winston with her eyes narrowed.

"How did you know, Winston? How did you know Roland was going to go for Rod after the dance?" she asked the black wizard who at least had the grace to look uncomfortable.

"James arranged it, sort of," Winston said as Rod turned to look at him, his face sober.

"What do you mean 'James arranged it?'" Rose demanded, outraged.

Winston sighed.

"When Rod agreed to dance with us, James had a word with Roland and made him promise not to do anything to Rod until the dance was over, because he was part of the routine," Winston said.

"What? That's horrible!" Rose said, "And you didn't say anything?"

Winston looked at Rod, who was expressionless.

"Listen. I wanted to say something, to tell Rod immediately but James said not to," Winston said.

"Why? Why wouldn't he tell Rod?" Rose demanded, her hands balled into fists. She was shaking with rage. How could her cousin do this?

Winston sighed.

"He said that it would ruin Rod's night. That he might not be able to enjoy himself if he were worried about fighting Roland afterwards," the wizard said, "And I really think James was right. I did tell him though, Rose. That has to count for something."

He looked at Rod.

"I'm sorry Rodman. I really am," he said apologetically, "But it made sense at the time."

Rod looked at Winston.

"Kind of Slytherinish," he said, giving the wizard a small grin.

Rose spun on Rod.

"That's all you have to say? These two idiots knew that Roland was waiting to beat your head in and all you say is that it was 'Slytherinish?'"

Rod shrugged.

"It is," he said shortly, then "Thanks for telling me, Winston. I'll handle it. Come on, Rose."

"No. I won't go with you," she said, hanging back and withdrawing her arm from his.

Rod looked at her.

"Well, I'll just have to walk up there alone, then," he responded and started down the corridor.

Rose looked after him, then at Winston.

"I think you're both horrible," she spat at him, then hurried after Rod.

Winston shook his head, then looked at Sharon, who had listened to everything.

"Do you think I'm horrible?" he asked her.

Sharon studied him.

"No. I think you're wonderful," she replied.

Winston smiled and gave her a small kiss.

"How wonderful?" he asked her in a low voice.

"Come on. I'll show you," she said, taking his arm. The couple walked in the opposite direction Rose and Rod took, looking for someplace quiet and clandestine.

Someplace Sharon could show Winston just how wonderful she thought he was.

* * *

"Rod, how can you not be mad at James and Winston? They hid this from you," the witch said to him.

"James was right. I wouldn't have had a good time tonight if I knew I was going to have to fight Roland afterwards. I had the best time of my life tonight, thanks to you. It would have been messed up if Roland had ruined that for me," Rod said to her earnestly.

Rose looked at him.

"You really had a good time?" she asked him softly.

"Yes. Did you?" he asked her.

"This was the best dance I ever went to, and you were the best date I ever had," she said honestly.

Rod gave her a little embarrassed smile.

"Thanks," he said, "I wanted to be a good date. I guess I'm good at something else."

Rose suddenly stopped walking, making Rod stop too. He looked at her.

"I bet you're good at a lot of things, Rod Dormers," she said softly, leaning in and kissing him on the mouth.

Rod stiffened as Rose's warm lips connected with his, and it was like magic pouring over him, almost like a disillusionment spell, but warm, not cold. Her mouth was so soft. Rod felt a sensation like lacewing flies filling his stomach, and a kind of sweetness as Rose pulled away and smiled at him shyly.

"Wow," Rod said, looking at her. "Just. . . wow, Rose."

"It's your good night kiss. I gave it to you early just in case I couldn't later," she said to him. "It's a standard on dates."

"Oh," Rod said, taking her arm again and walking back up the hall. He still had that goofy feeling though.

They walked past a suit of armor. Neither witch nor wizard noticed the slight shimmer on the side of it. It was Roland. He had seen Rose kiss the wizard and was furious. She actually liked him. Well, he'd just wait for Odd Rod to come back. Then they'd settle this once and for all.

Rod and Rose made it to the Fat Lady without incident, Rod looking around carefully.

"It seems Winston was wrong about Roland," he said to Rose, who looked relieved.

"I'm glad. I don't want you fighting, Rod," she said to the wizard.

"I don't want to fight either, but if I have to, I have to," the wizard said with a shrug.

Both of them fell silent for a moment, Rod straightening his robes a bit.

"I really did have a wonderful time, Rod. I hope you have a good holiday," she said to the wizard.

"I'll be fine," Rod said, "You enjoy your family, all right? I'll have a present for you when you come back. For you and for Hugo."

Rose smiled at him.

"You're so sweet, Rod," she said, rewarding him with another kiss, this one short and quick. But it still had the same effect on Rod, who smiled at her goofily as she said the password and let herself in.

"Bye Rod," she said with a grin.

"Bye," he said, watching as the portrait closed. He turned around, feeling as if he were walking on air as he headed back up the corridor.

"She kissed me twice," the wizard thought happily, "The first kiss was standard, but the second kiss wasn't. She kissed me because she wanted to . . . and that has to mean she likes me. Wow. Rose Weasley."

"I hope Rose gargles when she gets to her room," a familiar voice growled.

Rod looked up to see Roland blocking the corridor.

"Oh, it's you," he said flatly.

Roland scowled.

"Yeah, it's me, and I'm going to kick your ass, Dormers. You don't deserve Rose. You're a loser," he said to Rod, jealousy making his voice thick.

"You're just mad because she doesn't like you, and I can't blame her. You're an idiot," Rod snapped back at him, angry now. "It's better to be a loser than an idiot. A loser can become a winner, but an idiot is always an idiot."

"What did you call me?" Roland snarled at him.

"Are you stupid AND deaf?" Rod taunted him, "I said you're an idiot! Can you spell that? I can. R-O-L-A-N-D. Idiot. Want me to use it in a sentence?"

Roland turned red with rage, smoke actually poofing from his nose as it flared.

What Rod was doing was following Professor Snape's advice and trying to make Roland so mad he lost control. He was doing a very good job of it.

"I'm going to twist your head off!" Roland hissed, charging at the wizard.

Rod braced himself.

It was on.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. More later. Tired. 


	66. The FaceOff

**Chapter 65 The Face-Off**

Roland charged toward Rod who stood there as if he were going to grab him, then spun neatly out of the way, the Gryffindor flying past him and skidding to a stop, turning with a snarl as Rod looked at him calmly, moving a little to the left.

"Ole!" the Slytherin said, then "Toro! Toro!"

"Hold still," Roland hissed, running at him again, this time swinging at Rod, who neatly ducked his blows. Roland was much sloppier with his throws than Snape was. He danced away from Roland, who frowned at him.

"Stop running, you coward! Fight!" he demanded.

"I am fighting," Rod responded.

"You call that fighting?" Roland growled, "I'll show you fighting."

Three couples were walking up the hall and saw Roland and Rod facing off.

"Hey, it's Roland and Rod," one wizard cried, leaving his date and running up. The others ran behind him, the witches' heels clicking on the stone flooring as they got close enough to watch as Roland charged at Rod again.

Rod timed it carefully, and Roland perceiving Rod would dip either to the right or left was prepared to alter his direction mid-charge to compensate, but Rod ducked low and Roland pitched over his back landing face first on the floor, sliding forward and landing crumpled and dazed.

"Ooh!" the audience groaned as the stunned wizard lay there a moment.

"Hm. That worked pretty good," Rod thought to himself as he waited for Roland to get up.

Roland pushed up off the floor, his nose bleeding and his face red. There was going to be some bruising.

"You got lucky," he growled, wiping at his face with one hand and studying the blood on his palm for a second before running at Rod again, swinging. Rod again slipped his blows, ducking under them and leaning away so Roland was just missing him.

"What kind of fighting is that?" said one of the witches, "I want to hear some bones crunching."

"Get him Roland!" another boy cried.

They were all Gryffindors, so they were rooting for their house, of course. Beating up a Slytherin was par for the course, even if he was as cool as Rod was now.

Rod saw an opening, and using one of his dance moves, dropped down and swept Roland's feet from under him, the wizard hitting the floor hard as Rod again danced away.

"Gods damn it," Roland hissed, getting up again. "Stay still Dormers!"

James and Anita walked up the hall, the witch stony-faced and James looking rather sullen. All of his date snafus ruined his chances for a good shag with the witch. Cute or not, James had messed up big time and there'd be no rewards tonight. James heard the yelling before he saw what was going on and sped up, dragging Anita along with him. He stopped when he saw Rod dancing around Roland.

Roland was looking pretty bad. His face was all bruised and there was blood on his chin. Both he and Rod were panting, but Rod looked fine.

"Isn't that Rod?" Anita asked as the wizard ducked another blow thrown by Roland.

"Yeah," James said shortly, watching the two.

Roland was really angry now and ran at Rod both arms extended wide and managed to grab him, lifting the smaller wizard against his body and crushing him. Rod's arms were pinned and they were face to face.

"Ooh. He's in for it now. Roland's going to pop him like a bubertuber pod," a wizard said as Rod's eyes bugged out.

His blue eyes met Roland's narrowed victorious ones as he gasped. He felt as if he couldn't take another breath as the bigger wizard squeezed. Suddenly Rod leaned his head back and head-butted Roland as hard as he could.

Roland dropped him and both wizards staggered back, seeing stars. Roland stopping in front of the suit of armor. Rod clapped his hand to his forehead and stumbled around a bit. Damn that hurt. But at least he got away.

He barely managed to jump out the way as Roland charged him again, the wizards changing places, Rod now standing next to the suit of armor. He looked at it for a second, then his eyes narrowed.

No more Mr. Nice guy. Rod was a Slytherin, and it was time to act like one.

Roland charged at him again, and Rod slipped his hand behind the suit of armor and flung it forward as hard as he could, the metal suit crashing into Roland and breaking apart, knocking the wizard down, the Gryffindor struggling to kick away the suit.

"Hey! That was dirty!" everyone yelled.

Rod didn't care as he kicked Roland in the ribs while he was down, then in the head. Then just dropped on the wizard and started wailing on him, hitting him in the face over and over, then choking him. He started to pick up the helmet and smash him in the face with it, but didn't. Still, all the pent up bitterness in Rod flowed out and although Roland managed to get a few licks in, Rod was on top and dominated the fight, punching the bigger wizard again and again until he flung his arms up to protect his face, no longer fighting back.

James had seen enough.

"All right Dormers. Fight's over. You've won. Get off of him," the wizard said, walking forward.

Rod gave Roland one more punch in the side of the head, then got off him. Rod's lip was split, there was a scratch under his right eye, his knuckles were a bit red and his robes were torn at the shoulder, but other than that, he was fine.

Roland looked a mess however. His entire face was swollen and bruised, and one eye drooping slightly. He spit out a bit of blood.

Rod wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked down at Roland, panting as the wizard sat up on his elbows, looking at the Slytherin.

"Are we finished with this?" Rod asked, "because if we aren't I can keep going."

"Yeah. Get out of here, Dormers," Roland said with some bravado because he was in front of his housemates. But it was clear to everyone Rod beat him, though he did do a dirty move with the armor. But hell, he was a Slytherin. It was expected.

"I'm going," Rod said.

He met James' eyes for a moment, the Gryffindor looking at him soberly, then walked past him, heading for Slytherin house. He hadn't expected James to congratulate him for winning. Roland was his housemate after all and there were others present.

It was fine. Rod didn't need his congratulations anyway. He'd proven himself to himself and that's what truly mattered. No one would ever push Rod Dormers around again.

* * *

"Rose! Rose! Have you seen Roland?" an excited Hugo said to his sister as he danced up to her. Rose was carrying a suitcase down the stairs. Everyone was getting ready to leave the school and milling about the Common Room, chattering excitedly, familiars running and flying about as students checked and recheck their items. 

"No, I haven't. Why?" Rose asked.

"Come on. He's sitting by the chess tables," Hugo breathed, taking Rose's hand and pulling her over to a crowd of students.

Rose followed Hugo and pushed through the crowd. She gasped when she saw Roland sitting in an armchair. His face was almost entirely black and blue, and one eye was swollen shut. He looked awful.

"Rod did that to him," Hugo said in a loud whisper.

Roland looked up at Rose for a moment, then turned his face away from her.

Rose stared at him for a second more, then backed out of the crowd, followed by Hugo. Rod did that? Oh dear gods.

"What did Rod do? Hit him in the face with a bludger?" Rose said as she returned to her suitcase and picked it up. Hugo grabbed his own suitcase.

"No, even better. He clobbered him with a suit of armor," Hugo said, grinning. "James said Rod barely had a scratch on him when he left."

Rose shook her head. It was awful. Why were wizards so stupid? She sighed.

"Well, I'm glad Rod is all right. I hope this is over now," she said, walking toward the Common Room entrance, Hugo by her side.

"It's over, unless Roland wants some more," the young wizard said with a smile. They exited the Common Room, walking past Sharon, who was coming from the Infirmary.

Winston was exiting the dorms when he saw her and gave her a bright smile, walking up to the witch.

"Hi Sharon," he said, his brown eyes a bit hot. Sharon looked up at him.

"Don't hi me. I realized this morning you didn't have protection on. I had to go take a Morning After Potion," she snapped at him.

Winston looked at her.

"You didn't give me any time to do anything but shag you, Sharon," he said to her in a low voice, "I . . . I couldn't think . . ."

"You would have had years to think while supporting your baby," she hissed at him.

"But . . . but . . .Sharon," he said to the witch, trying to find something to say that would cool her ire. She could have used something just as good as he could have. Everything happened so fast . . .

"Just leave me alone," she snapped, walking away.

Winston looked after her, a bit confused. He hadn't expected this. The thing was, he really liked Sharon and didn't want her mad at him, especially now that they had shagged. The young wizard let out a sigh and picked up his suitcase. Maybe she'd forgive him over the holidays.

He could only hope.

* * *

Snape came to Hermione's apartment for lunch on Saturday, and they spent their time eating and arguing over some asinine article he'd found once again comparing the art of Potions vs. Charms. It was quite inflammatory, and actually one of the worst articles he had ever read, which was precisely why he brought it to Hermione, to hear the witch rail and tear it apart, even calling him a "bone-headed plebian" in her wrath. 

After Hermione calmed down, which took about an hour, Snape told her he had adjusted the wards for the holiday.

"I've set the wards to recognize your signature so you can apparate to and from the worksite at will. I've done this because Bartleby is also taking a two week vacation and you won't be able to contact him while you are away visiting," the wizard said.

"Why thank you, Severus," Hermione said, smiling at him.

"When your children arrive, I hope you will control them. Just because the area isn't warded doesn't mean I want them tramping all over," he snarked.

Hermione scowled at him.

"What do you mean? It's freezing outside," she said, "They won't be tramping about."

Snape snorted.

"I'm sure Mrs. Weasley will provide them with enough sweaters, scarves, gloves and pom-pom hats to make them impervious to the cold," he replied.

Hermione grinned.

Yes, Molly did provide hand knit clothing for her family each Christmas. She was a bit surprised Severus remembered this, but then again, seeing all the Weasley children in big sweaters with their initials on them year after year at Hogwarts probably stuck in his mind.

"They'll be good, Severus. I promise," she said to him.

"I'd be more reassured by that statement if the promises actually came from them, rather than you," he replied, finishing his tea.

Hermione hadn't told the wizard that she had returned outside last night to retrieve him. After she went back inside and had a chance to think about it, she believed that she had acted impulsively and it would have been a mistake to bring the wizard in.

Well, that was what she told herself. Hermione was a master of self-delusion when she needed to rationalize something that really had no rationale.

The couple parted with one small, chaste kiss, Hermione heading for Hogsmeade to Christmas shop.

Snape had already taken care of his shopping.

* * *

Hermione was surprised to see Rod Dormers in Hogsmeade. The young wizard greeted her, and she noticed his lip was cut and there was a scratch under his eye that hadn't been there the night before. 

"Rod, what happened to your face?" she asked him.

"Ah, just little run-in with a suit of armor," he replied evasively.

He didn't want Rose's mother to think he was a violent brawler. He wanted Hermione to like him. He didn't have to worry about that. She already did.

"Oh," Hermione said, her eyes resting on his face again, not quite sure she believed him. But if he didn't want to tell her what happened, it was his right. As long as Rose wasn't involved.

"So what are you doing in Hogsmeade?" she asked him.

"Um, buying presents for Rose and Hugo," he said, "For Christmas."

"Oh, that's so sweet, Rod," she said to him, delighted.

Rod nodded then looked a little uncomfortable

"The only thing is, I've never bought a gift for a witch before. I was thinking about perfume, but Rose might not like what I like. Maybe jewelry . . .?" he asked, hoping Hermione would give him a hint if Rose would like something like that.

"Jewelry would be fine, Rod, as long as it's not too expensive," Hermione replied, "Or gaudy. Maybe a charm bracelet."

Rod gave her a broad smile.

"That sounds good. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Rod said, "I thought I'd get Hugo something from Zonko's"

Hermione shook her head.

"No. Zonko's is out completely. They're competition for his uncle's shop, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. There'd be anarchy. Besides, he has access to all the new joke items already," she told Rod.

"Oh," he said, "Well, what does he like?"

"Hugo's easy. He likes the Chudley Cannons," she said to the blonde wizard.

"Oh, all right. I can get him something related to the team," he said, smiling.

"He'd like that," Hermione replied, resisting the urge to ruffle Rod's hair. He was so cute, "Well, I have to go Rod. I have my own shopping to do. Have a Happy Christmas."

"You too, Mrs. Weasley," he said as Hermione departed.

Rod smiled after her.

She really was a nice witch.

* * *

Hermione purchased nice broom maintenance kits for Rose, Hugo and her nieces and nephews . They didn't give elaborate gifts on Christmas and the presents were kept simple. She brought Molly a huge magically self-cleaning cooking pot (Molly could never have enough of them) and for Arthur she bought an old radio with tubes in it from a muggle thrift shop for him to tinker around with. She purchase a green non-reactive pestle and mortar set with the Slytherin crest for Severus, the latest book of Quidditch Through the Ages for Harry and a certificate for the "Full Treatment" at Fingleberry's Day Spa for Witches for Ginny to be primped and pampered. Hermione had heard the magical mud pots were to die for. She also bought a pair of jeans for Rod as an afterthought. She doubted if he had any. Severus wouldn't have bought them. He wasn't a jeans type of guy. 

She apparated back to the worksite, wrapped her gifts and prepared for her trip to the Burrow. She wasn't leaving until Tuesday, which was Christmas Eve, would spend Christmas Day at the Burrow, and most likely would return Friday. But this was Hermione and she liked to get ready early.

She and Severus got together several times in the next couple of days, but their time spent together was mostly platonic, as if some line had been marked since the night of the ball. The wizard wasn't as forward as he had been, though he would kiss her hello and goodbye. Mostly they discussed the projects she'd have to catch up on and Severus grumbled like Ebenezer Scrooge about having to pay a holiday vacation salary to employees that weren't working.

Hermione was his only employee at this time, though Rod was on-board.

"Stop being so tight-fisted, Severus," she chided him as he pouted, but in a snarky kind of way.

"I'm not being tight-fisted. You're being paid aren't you?" he said sullenly.

"Unbelievable," Hermione sighed, shaking her head as she retrieved some cookies she'd been baking.

The day she left however, Severus was very solicitous, stealing several rather passionate kisses as the witch got her things together. Finally, it was time for her to go to the Burrow.

"Enjoy yourself," he said to the witch softly, his dark eyes seeming to want to memorize her.

"I don't like the idea of you being alone on Christmas, Severus," Hermione said to him, her eyes sad, "You've been alone so much."

"I'll be fine. You just enjoy your family, Hermione," he said to her, giving her one more soft kiss.

Hermione blinked up at him. She really hated this.

"Go," Snape said, "I'll be here when you come back. Waiting."

Hermione sighed, then disapparated.

Snape stood looking down at the imprints her feet left in the snow.

"Have a very Happy Christmas, Hermione Weasley," he said softly, then disapparated to his empty home.

* * *

Molly had been very disappointed to find out Rod wouldn't be coming to the Burrow for Christmas. She had been looking forward to meeting the young man who had saved her granddaughter, and hated the idea of him in that drafty castle almost completely alone. Still, she could do something for him. 

Actually, Rod wasn't doing too badly at Hogwarts. He now had his own portable wizarding wireless and headset, and spent his days dancing through the castle, making up new moves, running through the halls, swinging on the shifting stairwells and generally having a good time by himself. Caretaker Gronin thought the boy had gone crazy as he watched him skip and tumble through the corridors, listening to some tune on his wireless.

Hermione spent a nice Christmas Eve with the family, sharing stories, laughing, feasting and watching everyone share the spirit of the season. But it was easy to see that there was something just not quite right with the witch. Hugo and Rose noticed it immediately, there was a sad, faraway look in their mum's eyes, one she lost immediately when anyone addressed her as if she were trying to be cheerful. Finally Rose took her aside.

"Mum, what's wrong," she asked Hermione, who gave her a small smile.

"Why, nothing's wrong, Rose. Why?" she asked her daughter, who gave her a little scowl.

"Mum, I can tell something is bothering you. You're not happy," her daughter said to her, "Tell me what's the matter. Please?"

Hermione sighed.

"I don't think you'd understand, Rose," she said, a little quaver in her voice.

"Try me, mum. Maybe I will," Rose urged her mother.

Hermione sighed again.

"Well, it's Professor Snape. He's there at home all alone on Christmas, with no one to share it with. He's always been like that. No friends, no family. Imagining him like that just breaks my heart, Rose. It has to be so lonely," Hermione said to her daughter.

Now Rose understood. Her mother didn't think she'd understand because of dad. But she did. She found herself thinking of Rod alone at Hogwarts and it bothered her too.

"That is sad, mum," Rose agreed.

"And we've grown so close, Rose. I feel . . . I feel guilty leaving him like this. I know my family comes first, but I can't help but feel that I'm letting him down. Abandoning him," Hermione said to her daughter. "I wanted him to come here, but he wouldn't. Because this is Ron's family and he and I are involved. I know that's the reason."

"Yeah, it would have been awkward, mum," Rose agreed, looking at the sadness in her mother's eyes. She really cared about Professor Snape. She must feel awful.

"I know, mum. Why don't you just drop in to see him for a bit tomorrow after we open the presents and have dinner? Just to say 'Happy Christmas.' I think that would be all right. Or maybe just spend the evening and come back the next day. I'm sure that would be all right. I know Hugo and I wouldn't mind. Then you wouldn't feel so guilty," Rose suggested.

Hermione looked at her daughter. She couldn't do that, could she? Just leave that way?

"But Molly . . ." Hermione began.

She knew her mother-in-law would be affronted if she left on Christmas Day, even if all the festivities were finished.

"Mum, this is about you, not grandmum. Professor Snape is important to you too. You care about him. If you're feeling guilty about him being alone it's probably because you should be with him. Mum, you've been with us every Christmas since I was born. And you've been to Christmas at the Burrow every year since before I was born. I don't think it would be terrible if you took a little time out to do something else after all this time. Go see him, mum. You need to," Rose said, "It's better than you moping around pretending you're having a good time. Just don't tell grandmum until you're ready to go. She'll spend the whole day trying to make you feel guilty."

Hermione looked at her daughter a bit shocked. When did Rose become so shady?

"You really think I should, Rose?" she asked her daughter.

"Yeah. I really do," Rose said, hugging her.

Hermione held her daughter close, her eyes filling with tears. Rose did understand.

"I'll go then. I'll surprise him," Hermione said, brightening now.

Rose smiled.

"Good for you, mum," she said, "Good for you."

* * *

Dean Thomas, his wife Joyce, son Winston and his baby daughter Alice were all in the living room laughing and enjoying each other's company when a knock sounded on the door. It was about eight-thirty. 

"I wonder who that is?" Dean said, taking Alice off his lap and rising from his armchair. Winston looked up from his disk collection as his father went to answer the door. He stood up and followed him.

Dean pulled open the front door and saw a wizard standing there in a heavy, shabby winter cloak, a black woolen hat pulled over his ears. He had a long rather twisted face and narrowed blue eyes. He didn't look too wholesome.

"Yes? May I help you?" Dean said a bit suspiciously.

He didn't like the look of this wizard.

"You Dean Thomas?" the wizard asked him, his eyes cold.

"Yes, I am," he said, "Do I know you?"

"I don't think you'll ever forget me," Jugson said, drawing a long dagger and swinging it downward.

But Dean was on point and caught his arm, the two wizards beginning to wrestle desperately.

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing to my dad!" Winston screamed, running into the doorway and joining his father, grabbing at the wizard's wrist and punching him in the side.

Joyce jumped up when she heard Winston curse and ran into the hall leading to the front door and saw her son and husband fighting with a wizard with a knife in his hand.

"You leave my family alone!" she screamed, running and jumping into the fray also. All four of them tumbled out into the snow, baby Alice standing in the doorway screaming "Mummy!" as they all fought desperately.

Joyce had Jugson by the face from behind scratching him horribly as Dean and Winston tried to get the knife from him. Jugson broke free for a moment, the knife flailing wildly before he was tackled again, this time the knife flying from his hand.

The desperate wizard managed to kick Dean off of him, then broke free of Joyce and Winston, fleeing into the night, Dean chasing him a little ways into the darkness before coming back.

"Is everyone all right?" Dean asked them, looking from his wife to his son, who stood looking back at him as if in shock. It was understandable however. Someone had just tried to kill his father.

"I'm fine," Joyce said, smoothing her hair, then walking back to the door and picking up the still screaming Alice. Dean walked over and picked up the knife.

The blade had blood on it. Dean spun and stared at Winston, who was standing there looking at him, holding his side.

Blood was dripping between his fingers.

Winston looked at him, his brown eyes dazed and confused.

"Dad?" he said softly, taking a weak step toward him, then falling into the snow, a crimson stain spreading under him..

"WINSTON!" Dean cried, dropping the knife and running toward his son as his wife screamed.

* * *

A/N: I decided to change the plot I had planned for Jugson because of the length of this story already. Soooo, Hermione is going to pay a surprise visit to Severus on Christmas day eh? What do you suppose would be the perfect gift? lol. Me too. heh. Thanks for reading. 


	67. Christmas Morning

**Chapter 66 Christmas Morning**

* * *

FOR STREAMING INTERACTIVE MUSIC CLICK HERE:  
theburningpen . com SLASH NB SLASH mlc . m3u  
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* * *

Rod wriggled in his bed, then turned over and stretched long and hard, his foot hitting something. Groggily he sat up, rubbing his eyes then looking down at the end of his bed. There, resting in a pile, were brightly wrapped presents. 

Presents?

Rod had never received any presents his entire time at Hogwarts. Disbelievingly, he crawled down to the end of the bed, blinking.

They were real!

Rod quickly turned himself into a sitting position and studied them. Some were oddly shaped and one was rather long and thin and thick on the bottom. He picked this one up first. It was wrapped in emerald green with a silver bow on the thickest part. A little card dangled from it, also shining emerald green with silver bells on it. He opened the card. It read:

_"Happy Christmas, Mr. Dormers. Learn to use this so you don't kill yourself when you have to harvest plants on higher grounds._

_SS_

Rod ripped the wrapping off the gift, his eyes bulging out of his head. It was a broom! His own broom. He studied the beautiful smooth polished wood grain handle and the adjustable metal stirrups. The words "Firebolt XL40 was etched in gold on the top of it, and the bristles were streamlined.

"Wow!" he said, jumping off the bed and mounting it. He didn't dare kick off however. Firebolts were the fastest brooms there were. He carefully lay the broom down on the bed and picked up a small rectangular present that simply said, "From Hugo."

He opened it and it was a picture of Hugo and Rose smiling and waving. Scrawled on the bottom was, "To Our Friend Rod."

He smiled and ran his finger over the frame, then carefully set the picture on his nightstand next to his bed and looked at it again, focusing on Rose. Oh she was pretty. He turned back to the gifts, picking up a lumpy one this time. It was soft. He ripped it open.

It was a sweater. It was Slytherin green with a large "R" embroidered in silver on the chest. It looked warm. Rod held it up to his chest and looked at himself in the mirror. He liked it. He also found a matching scarf, gloves and a hat with a silver pom pom on top.

"From the Weasley Family" the card read.

The next package Rod opened was full of homemade sweets and treats from Molly and savory meat pies. Rod bit into one and his eyes rolled up into his head it tasted so good. The next package he opened was a small box. Inside was a bottle of cologne.

"To Rod from Rose," the tiny card said.

Rod opened the bottle and sniffed it. It smelled great. And what was better, Rose liked the way it smelled so if he wore it, she'd automatically like it. That sure took the guesswork out of it.

The next package he opened contained a pair of nice blue jeans. He read the card.

"From Hermione Weasley"

Wow. Rose's mum had given him a present. Jeans too. All he had were dress trousers. This was great! He stared at all his presents and knew this was the best Christmas he had ever had.

* * *

In a small hospital room, Dean and Joyce looked down at their son Winston. They had gotten him to the hospital and the healers had done all they could for him. Now they were waiting to see if he regained consciousness. 

He had lost a lot of blood.

The Aurors recognized Jugson from the Pensieve Dean provided of the attack. The wizard couldn't tell the Aurors why Jugson came after him. He didn't know him.

"Well, we'll catch up to him, don't worry," the Auror assured the family. He looked down at Winston, who was pale and unmoving. "I'm sorry about your son."

"Thank you. Just catch that maniac," Dean said as his wife sobbed.

She was sitting in a chair next to Winston's bed, holding his hand, Dean's hand resting on her shoulder as she looked down on her only son.

* * *

At the Burrow, everyone came charging down the stairs, tearing into their presents, wrapping flying everywhere and laughter and shouting abounding as they opened their gifts. James came down too, rubbing his eyes. 

Arthur, who was at the kitchen table reading the paper said, "My word. Dean Thomas and his family were attacked on Christmas Eve by a former Death Eater named Henry Jugson. Dean's son was stabbed."

"What?" James cried, "Winston was stabbed? Is he dead?"

"It just said he was taken to St. . . ." Arthur began as James flew back up the stairs.

Molly entered from the kitchen carrying mugs of hot chocolate to start the day. She had sweet rolls in the over and was just starting breakfast.

She sat the platter of mugs down on a table, then looked up to see James come flying down the stairs fully dressed and racing for the door.

"Where are you going on Christmas morning?" Molly called at him as he ran past.

"I have to go to St. Mungo's to see about Winston," he cried, flinging open the door and running out of it. There was the crack of apparition.

Everyone had stopped opening presents the moment James reacted to the story. Hermione came down in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes, her hair a mess.

She looked at everyone in the room.

"What's going on?" she asked sleepily.

* * *

Severus sat at the kitchen table slowly drinking a cup of coffee, looking over the paper and eating his breakfast. Eli stood near him, his ears slightly flattened. This was the first time since being in the Master's service that he felt actual sadness and loneliness from the wizard. 

Oh there had been pensieve times and depressed times, but nothing like this. His master was pining, and had been pining for several weeks now, but this was the worst Eli had ever felt.

"Happy Christmas, Master," the elf ventured in his squeaky voice.

Snape looked down at him in surprise.

"Thank you, Eli. Happy Christmas to you as well," he said, returning to his paper. He scowled slightly as he read about Winston being stabbed by Jugson.

"A fine Christmas for the Thomases," he muttered.

He had never like Jugson. He was sneaky, cruel and cowardly when in service to the Dark Lord.

"I hope they get him," he breathed.

* * *

On a sunny beach, John Bartleby lay outstretched in a lounge chair wearing a huge striped one-piece bathing suit that covered his belly and chest, a big beach umbrella propped over him. A pretty native girl brought him a brightly colored drink with a little umbrella sticking out of it. Bartleby lifted his sunglasses and looked at her appreciatively as he took the drink. 

"Thank you my little Island Beauty," he said with a smile, taking a sip of the drink, setting it down on a little table beside him and sitting back with a sigh, looking over the sparkling water.

* * *

Shivering behind some boxes on a dock, lay Henry Jugson, his face covered in deep scratches, his winter cloak wrapped tightly around him for warmth. He had spent his first week free visiting the Ministry library, studying Hogwarts history. There were a number of yearbooks and he used them to identify the boy who hexed him and got him caught. 

Dean Thomas.

He then went to the Ministry tax records, which were available to anyone and looked up Dean's address. His Azkaban issued wand wasn't strong enough to cast a Killing curse. He could barely use it. He'd have to take the wizard out physically. Next would be that turncoat Lucius, then that traitor Snape.

Jugson never dreamed Dean would have the kind of family he did. He had to get out of Wizarding England. He couldn't go back to the Reintroduction house looking as he did. They'd know he'd been up to no good. Anyway, the Aurors were probably out looking for him, and that would be the first place they'd go.

* * *

Rod, dressed in his Weasley sweater, cap and gloves, the scarf wrapped around his face and wearing his new blue jeans, pushed open the double doors leading outside with a whoop, his broom in hand. 

He bounded down the stairs, ran out a little distance from the castle, crunching through the snow, mounted his firebolt and kicked off, whooshing away into the cold winter air, hooting with delight as he soared, a bit shakily.

Yeah, he needed practice. But there had never, ever been a Christmas like this.

* * *

Winston blinked and opened his eyes, startled by the unfamiliar white room he was in, then his brown eyes shifted to the side of the bed where his mother was sitting, holding his hand, her head bowed. His father stood by her, his head also bowed. 

What had happened?

"Mum? Dad? Where am I?" he said to his parents. Both of their heads jerked up.

"Winston! Winston!" they both cried, Joyce gripping his hand so hard, Winston winced. His dad was crying and so was his mum.

"What happened? Where am I?" he asked his parents.

Just then the door opened and James rushed in.

"Winston!" he cried, stopping by the bed, his chest heaving as several healers followed him in angrily. They had tried to stop him but he darted around them and ran until he found a room that read "Thomas" on the door.

"You can't be in here," one healer said to the wizard who scowled at him stubbornly.

"He can stay," Winston said, "He's my best friend."

James beamed down at him, glad the wizard was still alive.

"I saw Sharon outside. They wouldn't let her in," James informed him.

"Sharon? Who's Sharon," Winston's mother asked him with a slight frown, though her heart was overjoyed her son was back.

"I think she's my girlfriend, mum," Winston replied with a smile.

* * *

At the Weasley house, they all had a big breakfast, giving a moment of silence for those who were not there in body but in spirit, Molly's eyes glistening as Arthur embraced her with one arm. They also said a prayer for Winston, hoping that he would come through his ordeal. Hermione silently gave a thought to Severus, hoping he was well. She'd see for herself soon enough.

* * *

"All right, Jugson. Out of there and move slow. We've got you covered," an Auror called to a shocked Jugson. How did they find him. 

Slowly the wizard rose from behind the boxes.

"Put your hands behind your head and come out slow," one of three Aurors said, his wand trained right between his eyes. Jugson stumbled forward and two Aurors grabbed him, turning him around and binding his hands behind his back.

The first Auror reached into his cloak and pulled out his Azkaban wand, eyeing it.

"It might not be that great for spell casting," the Auror said to his prisoner, "But it's excellent for tracking down repeat offenders."

Jugson cursed under his breath as he was led away.

* * *

James returned home and announced that Winston was going to make a full recovery. Everyone was overjoyed and the celebrating continued, the Christmas feast absolutely delicious, featuring a huge turkey served with potatoes, vegetables and stuffing with gravy and bread sauce. There were sweets and treats and a delicious Christmas pudding with brandy sauce. Everyone, with the exception of Hermione, ate heartily. 

She picked at her food, but Molly was engaged in conversation with Fleur and Bill so didn't really notice, thank goodness. As soon as she was able, Hermione excused herself and went upstairs as everyone else gathered in the living room, sang songs, played games and chatted.

Hermione showered carefully, taking time with herself, her stomach full of butterflies. Severus would be so surprised to see her. She dried off, brushed her hair to silkiness, then pinned it up into a loose bun. Then she put on a bright Christmasy sweater and jeans, heavy socks and trainers. She looked at herself in the mirror. Yes, she just looked like she was going visiting. Nothing fancy. She donned her heavy traveling cloak, then picked up Severus' present and another smaller present she had purchased for Eli at the last minute, then took a deep breath and headed downstairs. She walked into the living room.

"Well, I'm off," she said in a cheery voice.

Everyone looked at her and then at Molly. Hugo and Rose knew where their mum was going, but no one else did.

Molly scowled at Hermione.

"You're off? What do you mean you're off? Where are you going?" the matriarch demanded.

"To bring Severus his Christmas present," Hermione said, holding up the brightly wrapped present for all to see.

Molly frowned, but couldn't say anything really. It was Christmas day and people were supposed to get their presents on that day.

"You couldn't have given it to him earlier to put under his tree?" Molly asked anyway.

"I don't think he has a tree," Hermione said, "Plus I'd like to see him open it. It's nicer that way."

"It sure is," Hugo said helpfully, wincing a little at the look his grandmother gave him.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Well, I'm off," Hermione said again.

"You'll be back tonight, won't you?" Molly asked, her eyes narrowed.

Hermione hoped she didn't flush.

"Well, if it gets too late, I'll just go to my apartment and come back tomorrow," she said lightly.

Molly frowned at her for a moment, then sighed.

"All right. But wait just a minute," she said to the witch, rising and going into the kitchen.

There was a lot of rattling and clanking, then Molly came back out with a dish covered in tin-foil.

"Here," she said, handing it to Hermione, "Take him a plate and tell him I said 'Happy Christmas.'"

Molly's eyes began to glisten as did Hermione's.

"Thank you, Molly. He'll appreciate that, I'm sure," she said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, hurrying out the front door and disapparating.

Arthur smiled at his wife. He knew how difficult that had been for his wife to accept. But she did accept it.

"Molly Weasley, you're an extraordinary woman," he said to her opening his arms..

Molly sniffed and walked into her husband's embrace as everyone smiled.

"It's Christmas, Arthur," she said softly, "No one should be alone on Christmas."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. For those on ff . net who would like to hear the audio with this chapter please go to my site at theburningpen . com and click on the "A New Beginning" link and go to the last chapter posted. 


	68. Someone's Knocking at the Door

**Chapter 67 Someone's Knocking at the Door**

Hermione appeared in front of the worksite and turned to peer up at the mountain. She wanted to surprise Severus, but didn't know how to get to his home. It was still hidden to her, though she was sure that Severus would have made it available if she had thought to ask.

But she hadn't.

The witch let herself into the site, the voice announcing her, then walked down to her apartment. Once inside she sat down on the sofa, staring down at the gifts she had in her hand. One was for Severus and one was for Eli. She brightened then summoned the house elf.

Eli winked in, looking rather surprised to see the witch.

"You is in need of service, Miss?" the elf asked her.

Hermione smiled at him.

"Well, yes and no. I do need your help, Eli, but first . . ."

Hermione held out the smaller package.

"Happy Christmas," she said to the elf, who stared at the brightly wrapped little package.

"This . . . this is for Eli?" he asked her, looking up at Hermione.

She nodded and offered it to him.

"Yes. It's for you. For Christmas," Hermione said to him.

His lower lip trembling a little, Eli took the package from Hermione.

"It is beautiful," he said, looking it over.

Hermione laughed.

"No. The present is inside, Eli. That is just the wrapping paper," she said.

Eli looked at the package furtively, then reverently removed the paper being very careful not to tear it. He looked at the gift, then his eyes filled with tears.

Hermione had given him a coffee mug that read: To Eli: The World's Greatest House Elf.

There was a little picture of a bowing house elf on the front of it.

"Oh Miss. Oh Miss," the elf said with great emotion, tears starting to run down his face.

Hermione was a bit surprised by this reaction. Eli had always been rather . . . surly.

Eli blinked up at her.

"But Eli gets you nothing," he said, his ears flattening in shame.

"Oh, that's all right, Eli. If you can help me, then that will be gift enough," she said to the elf. "I want to surprise Professor Snape with a visit. Can you take me to him?"

Eli shook his head sadly.

"I cannot takes people inside," the house elf said, "Is protection."

"Oh," Hermione said rather sadly, "I guess you'd better tell him I'm here then."

Eli hesitated.

"I can takes you to the outside door. Is not the house. You has to knock and the master will answer," the elf suggested.

"Oh, that's perfect, Eli. He'd never expect that!" she said.

"He will be happy to sees you, Miss. Is not happy now," Eli said, his ears trembling a little at revealing this. But Hermione had given him a present and besides, it was his job to provide what the Master needed. It was easy to see he needed Hermione.

"Not happy, Eli? Why? Because he is alone at Christmas?" she asked the elf, who shook his head vigorously.

"Oh no, Miss. He is used to being alone. But he is pining. Has been pining a long time now," the elf said.

"Pining?" Hermione repeated, her brow furrowed.

"Pining for you, Miss. He can't sleeps and paces and mutters. Has been this way a long time, Miss. Is you he wants. Has no peace without you," Eli said. "There was another, but she is gone beyond that he was like this for, but not like you. You is here and now. You is not impossible. The other . . . she was impossible. You are more to the Master than she. You is what he wants. What he needs. Then he can sleeps. Then he is good, better than before. I takes you to the outside door now. You makes him happy tonight if you comes."

Hermione stared down at the elf as knots formed in her belly. She drew in a deep breath and reached out her hand. If she hesitated for even one moment, she might lose her nerve and return to the Burrow. Deep down inside, she knew she didn't want to return . . . not tonight.

"Take me, Eli," she said to the elf, who smiled and grasped her hand.

"We goes now," Eli said, winking out and taking the witch with him.

* * *

Severus was sitting in the armchair in front of the fireplace, his dark eyes resting on the crackling flames, the flickering light coloring his pale features in alternating shadow. An untouched glass of Firewhiskey sat on the table next to him, and a small wireless played Christmas music.

He roused when a knock sounded on his door, startling him. Who could possibly have found this place? Paparazzi? Well, if it were someone infringing on his privacy, he'd give them something for Christmas he'd never forget.

Pulling his wand out of his pocket, the wizard stalked over to the door, waited a few seconds, then ripped it open, pointing the tip of his wand between a set of two frightened amber eyes.

"Hermione," he said hoarsely, unable to believe the witch was here. "What? How? How did you get up here?"

The wizard in his surprise didn't lower his wand but still held it squarely on the witch.

"I . . . I persuaded Eli to bring me," she replied softly, staring cross-eyed at the wand an inch from her forehead, "But . . . if you want me to go . . ."

Snape scowled.

"Why would I want you to go?" he snapped at her.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe your wand trained on my forehead, perhaps?" she said, furrowing her brows a little.

Snape quickly dropped his wand hand and caught Hermione by the arm, gently pulling her inside and closing the door behind her.

"Sorry about that. I just had no idea who would gain access to my home. I thought you might be Paparazzi," he replied, taking her cloak and hanging it up. He looked at the witch as if he hadn't seen her in months.

"Why aren't you at the Burrow?" he asked her softly.

"Well, Molly sent you a plate, and I have a gift for you. I wanted to give them to you," she said to him softly, holding out both the plate and the gift.

"So, you just 'dropped by' then. I assume you will be returning to the Burrow?" he asked her, his eyes dulling just a bit.

Hermione looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest.

"That depends on whether or not you want me to return to the Burrow . . . or . . . or stay here with you for the night," she said softly.

Snape stared down at her, his own heart rate beginning to gain in tempo.

"Stay with me? For the night?" he repeated, committing his own little language snafu in his shock. Dare he hope she meant . . .

"Yes, for the night," Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a full minute the Potions master just stared at the witch, saying nothing, his eyes so intense Hermione felt as if he were seeing inside of her. Suddenly he took the plate and gift out of her hands, quickly set them on the table next to his firewhiskey, and pulled her into him.

"My gods, woman. I would have you stay the night, the day, the week, the month . . . I would have you stay forever if it were possible," he breathed.

"I think we should just start with tonight, Severus," she smiled at him, though she could feel herself quivering against his body.

"Yesssss," he breathed, then he lowered his head and kissed her the way he'd been wanting to kiss her for months, his mouth meeting her soft lips and feeling them part, the witch offering more, so much more as he tasted her, his tongue probing timidly at first as if fearing rejection, then the kiss deepening as Hermione own's hot muscle wrapped around his, then made its own exploration, slipping between his lips and scouring his mouth softly.

The wizard let out a groan of longing and of victory as the witch responded, her acceptance and hunger igniting a flame inside him he had never experienced before and he claimed her mouth like a new territory, a new world that was his to explore.

He would not leave one valley unvisited, one cleft unexplored. He intended to familiarize himself with every contour of her body, linger at every undulating curve of her landscape, divine her hidden mysteries and bring them to the light. Finally he would know what it was to take a woman he had strong feelings for, and already the difference was affecting him. This was his chance to not only claim Hermione Weasley, but prove to her he could be everything she needed in every way. He believed this was his chance to make her love him.

He wouldn't waste that chance.

* * *

A/N: Whoo hoo. I had to stop because I have to get Tay off to school. More to come. Thanks for reading. 


	69. Slow and Easy

**Chapter 68 Slow and Easy**

If Hermione had been taken by the Potions master's kisses before, it was nothing compared to the wash of fire and sweetness pouring over her now as he hungrily possessed her mouth, his kiss probing, his pale hands locking themselves in her hair, lifting it, drawing her closer, giving her the sensation of being consumed, of being swallowed down, of being completely enfolded in his desire, in his need, in his own dark fire.

She gasped as his lips moved from her mouth along her jaw line to her throat, the wizard tasting her skin, suckling, licking, his breathing becoming labored as his hands slid around her waist, easing under her sweater, touching her flesh so gently, warm roughened hands moving lightly over her skin, his palms and fingers like flame and like salvation. Hermione's eyes closed with pleasure. His touch was incredible, moving, compelling . . . Circe, she wanted more

"Gods, it's been so long . . .so long since I've felt like this . . ."

Hermione heard her own gasped words as if from far away. Snape breathed in the scent of her hair, the scent of her skin, drinking in her warmth, her life,

"I've never felt like this, " Snape murmured, his voice muffled as his mouth moved over her throat, his soft lips ardent as they pressed against her flesh, "Merlin how I want you, Hermione."

Hermione shuddered at his words, at his hunger as the wizard once again kissed her, and more than kissed her, his mouth moving over her exposed skin as he tasted her, leaving trails of fire branded into her skin. He gathered her closer, his breathing harsh.

"I can't wait . . .I'm sorry . . .

* * *

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Snape lifted Hermione in his arms and strode through the house, kissing her all the while as he carried the witch into his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him with his foot. He set her down and once again claimed her mouth, pulling her body into his, his hands moving over her. His touch was tender but electrifying

"I've never had this opportunity. I've never had a woman in my arms that meant more than the means to momentary pleasure," he hissed against her ear. "You are so much more, Hermione Weasley. So much more."

Hermione was on the edge of everything. Snape's ardor and passion was sweeping her to the edge, her own loneliness and need for connection boiling over her, her own appreciation and desire for the wizard taking over every possible aspect of reason. His mouth, his hunger was all she knew.

"Severus," she breathed, "Oh gods . . . I . . . I . . ."

"Shhhh," he breathed, "There is no need for words, witch. You will be mine now. It's time to unveil you. Lift your arms, Hermione."

As if under the Imperio curse, Hermione lifted her arms and Severus stopped his ardent exploration of her flesh, pulling her sweater over her head, exposing her upper body, her bra encased breasts. She wore a simple white cotton bra and it was amply filled. The wizard paused to look at her, his dark eyes smoldering as they swept over her chest, his face slightly contorted with desire and strong emotion. Hermione faltered as he stared at her, feeling a bit of apprehension about her body. She was no nubile young witch and knew it. He slid his hands around her waist, letting them drop to the top of her jeans.

"Severus, wait," Hermione said, her voice quavering.

He hesitated for a moment, then pulled her forward a bit by her belt loops.

"I can't wait witch. I've hungered for you. I need you," he breathed.

"Lower the lights then," Hermione said.

"Why? I want to see you," the wizard said, his hands falling to the clasp of her jeans. "I've longed to see you."

Hermione caught his hands.

"Severus, I'm not . . . not so exciting. I'm no shapely young thing," she said to him. "My body . . .I have stretch marks"

Severus looked down at her, at her exposed body, feeling she didn't understand how he felt about her. It was far more than physical, but the physical was more than adequate. She was soft, rounded, and feminine. Any marks she bore from childbirth were beautiful to him. After all, he had his own scars. Scars meant nothing. And her marks were created from love, from the giving of life. There was nothing ugly about that. Nothing ugly at all.

"You are exciting. You are beautiful, Hermione Weasley. You are everything I desire, a complete package," he said softly, continuing in his attempt to reveal her further.

"I don't . . . I don't . . ." she began.

The Potions master silenced her with a soft kiss.

"Believe me. Trust me," he said to her, "You are the most desirable woman in the world to me. Don't attempt to make yourself any less. You will fail."

His dark eyes blazed into hers, clearly reflecting his need, his desire. He didn't care about imperfections. Imperfections simply made her more, made her special. He wanted Hermione as is. No deceptions, no pretension.

Hermione said nothing else as Snape lowered himself and removed her trainers. She was aware of his hands on her jeans, opening them, revealing her, drawing her last bastion of reluctance away, down her thighs, over her calves, ankles and feet. Hermione stepped out of her clothing, dressed only in her bra and knickers, unable to look up at him, aware of the thin stretch marks that encircled her waist.

"Beautiful," Snape breathed, tilting her face upward with one pale finger, his hand sliding to the small of her back and guiding her into him. "By the time this night is over, witch, you'll have no doubts how beautiful I find you. I promise you that."

He kissed her again, her semi-nude body pressing into his fully clothed frame. He could feel the witch trembling, and knew he had to take this slowly. He turned Hermione, so her back rested against him, drew her hair aside and kissed her throat softly, his hands moving over the soft skin of her belly, rocking her against him gently, almost like a child, trying to soothe her, to make her feel safe while showing her how much he desired her. Hermione sighed as Severus kissed and caressed her, reveling in the softness of her body and even more in her acceptance of him this way. Slowly, his hands slipped over her hip and down her thigh, then back up again, sweeping around the curve of her breasts and over her shoulders.

"I love touching you," he breathed.

"Touch me more," Hermione groaned, her eyes closed.

Severus let out a small sound at this, then slowly, carefully almost hesitatingly slid his hands back down her body, then up again, cupping both her breasts, palming their fullness, then squeezing lightly, fondling the witch. Hermione pressed back against him, rubbing her body against him, feeling the wizard hardening against her buttocks and pressing his erection against her.

"My gods," Severus groaned in a raw voice, falling back to her throat and shoulders, kissing and suckling the witch, moving against her as he kneaded her breasts, then ran his hands over her more ardently, slipping one experimentally between her thighs for a moment, touching the warm, damp crotch of her knickers as Hermione squirmed. His long pale fingers rested there for a moment, then pressed, the witch letting out a whimper as she felt his digits touching her most intimate place through the thin fabric. Reflexively she rolled her pelvis against his hand and Snape let out a feral growl, suddenly stepping back from the witch and turning her around.

Hermione's eyes were half-lidded, her lips parted and her face flushed as she looked up at him, noting how wide his nostrils were flared. He almost looked angry as he began to open his robes, his hands flying down the front of them as his eyes locked to hers, full of heat. He let the robes fall where he stood and he began on his shirt, then paused as he felt Hermione's hands tugging at his buckle, pulling it open, her eyes downturned, gazing at the huge tent beneath the fabric.

She was past the point of caring how big he was now. All she knew was that she felt she would go mad if they weren't skin to skin soon. Snape went to work on his cuffs, hissing as Hermione's tugged down the zipper to his trousers and parted them. But she went no further, looking up at him as he removed his shirt, his pale chest exposed, abs tight, a smattering of scars apparent. He stopped undressing for a moment, and Hermione leaned in and planted a soft kiss in the center of his chest. Severus' eyes fluttered with pleasure at the soft contact of her lips.

"More, Hermione," he said softly, never having experienced this before. "Kiss me more witch."

Hermione began to slide her mouth over the wizard's torso, planting small, wet kisses breathing in the spicy scent of his skin, so pale, almost like alabaster, his muscles hard and flexing under her lips as they moved over his body. Snape's head was flung back, his eyes closed with pleasure, his hands resting on her shoulders, then moving down her back and sweeping over her ass before returning.

Hermione's hands slipped to his back, hesitating, then lingering over his scars, her fingertips tracing the raised lines, the criss-crossing pattern of old sufferings forever etched in his tissue, a reminder of all that he'd gone through . . . because of guilt and an unrequited love. What a complicated man he was. Hermione kissed his chest tenderly as they caressed each other, the wizard shuddering slightly under her ministrations.

"Yessss. Yessss, Hermione," he purred, his silken voice dragging over her like an audible caress. He always had a beautiful voice, but now, now there were no words to describe how wonderful it was, how compelling, how erotic his rich tones became when colored with pleasure. Severus Snape had the voice of a lover.

Hermione slipped lower, feeling the wizard's ribbed belly jerk in reaction, Snape gasping as she moved over his abdomen, sinking lower, tonguing his navel, her hands slipping lower, resting on his waist just above his open trousers. Circe, he tasted, sounded and felt so good.

Hermione began to sink even lower, but suddenly was pulled upward by the wizard, then lifted against his body, her breasts resting against his chest, her legs wrapping around his waist as he hungrily claimed her mouth, the huge bulge in his pants pressing hard between her legs, throbbing slightly, one arm looped around her waist, one hand buried in her hair, guiding her motions as he plundered her mouth.

It was like a dream, a very erotic, sensual dream, her body burning up with need, the contact between them only fanning the flames higher as the wizard moved against her, using his body to further ignite her, the witch beginning to perspire, her body heating up beneath his hands. Carefully he unsnapped her bra with one hand, slowly drawing the straps down her shoulders one at a time.

"Let me take it off," he said softly, pulling away from her mouth.

Hermione could only accommodate him, pulling out first one arm, then the other, revealing her breasts to the wizard. They were full, natural, the tips dark and hardened with pleasure. Snape dropped the bra to the floor then wrapped both his arms around her lower back, leaning her back over them and began kissing licking and suckling her breasts, taking them into his warm mouth and teasing her nipples with his tongue until the witch was moaning, rubbing herself against his hardness hungrily, a sweet ache between her thighs as she slid her hands into his lank hair. It was soft, fine under her fingers.

Snape kissed his way back up her throat and found her mouth again, carrying the now writhing witch to the bedside of his four-poster, then falling into it, landing on top of Hermione, pulling away from her mouth, his black eyes blazing down at her. He was nestled between her thighs, his hair a curtain around his pale face and he moved against her sensually, urgently but not roughly, teasing her core through her knickers, staring at her face as she gasped under him, loving the lust and need he saw there. Yes, she truly was ready. He had waited all his life for a moment like this. For a witch like her. For intimacy with meaning, with a purpose beyond mere sexual release. He wanted to be part of Hermione, and for Hermione to be part of him. Snape knew this connection would be the sweetest of his life, and he savored every moment of it.

"I want to learn every part of you, Hermione Weasley, memorize your body like a map, read every curve and indentation with my fingertips like Braille. I want to know what your every sigh means, the message hidden in every sharp intake of breath. I want to know where to put my hands, my mouth, my tongue to make you lose yourself to me," he breathed, "I want to possess you until you know nothing else but me, witch."

Hermione couldn't find her voice, not with the wizard moving as he was and speaking as he was. She had never experienced anything like this. There was desire with Ron, a comfortable, sweet longing for closeness when they engaged, tempered by their love for each other and it had been nice, good, satisfying.

But with Severus, she felt as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them and a terrible, powerful urgency. It felt almost as if she were torn in two and the wizard on top of her, the other half needed to make her whole. She longed him to fit himself to her, slip inside her and close that gap that seemed so endless. She arched against him in response, her knickers soaked by her readiness.

Up to this point, Snape had willing witches, yes. The prostitutes were accommodating, but not full of desire for _him_. They were ready to be used for a price, their lust for galleons rather than the wizard who supplied them. Hermione would be his first true lover, the first woman who longed for _him_, who wanted _him_, and this knowledge made the wizard burn, his insides feeling as if they would boil over.

Gods, he wanted her, could just take her now, but there was so much more to do first. Sex would be the culmination of the journey, but he wanted the journey. He wanted to take Hermione someplace she'd never been. He wasn't sure that he could do it. He had no idea what it was like for Hermione and her deceased husband, but he hoped he would make his own strong impression, that he would be able to sway her heart as well as her body towards him permanently.

Once again, he fell to her mouth, his hands sweeping up and down her body as he kissed her, gently rubbing between her legs, his trousers getting damp against the witch and the scent of her arousal filling his bedroom. Hermione was moving with him, rolling under him and Snape let out a groan and began to slide down her body, his mouth covering every inch of skin, suckling and tasting as Hermione sighed and arched, responding powerfully. The wizard's attentions were both torture and heaven as he kissed and caressed his way lower, his hair dragging on her skin, mouth moving over her belly. He slid lower, his fingers splayed over her hips for a moment, before slipping under her knickers and pulling them down, sitting back on his heels as he removed them, Hermione pulling out first one leg then the other, her lips pursed and eyes full of heat. She looked so delicious. Severus looked down on the curly chestnut hair of her sex, his nostrils once again flaring as the scent of her arousal washed over him, musky, sweet and pungent.

He leaned forward and kissed her lower belly, then ran his lips over her pubic hair, pulling at it gently. Then he stopped and Hermione lifted her head slightly, looking down at him. His eyes were hungry and he licked his lips.

"Spread your legs, Hermione. Let me drink at your fountain, witch," he breathed up at her.

Oh gods. Hermione did as he asked and squealed as the wizard lowered his head and ran his tongue between her folds, over her clit, collecting her juices on the tip of his tongue, then sighing with pleasure at the taste of her. It was ambrosia. He lowered his entire body to the bed and wrapped his arms securely around her thighs and went to work on the witch, licking, tonguing and sucking on her core as if it were another mouth to claim, his tongue ardent in its exploration, Hermione crying out and trying to arch upward as he held her steady, thrusting his tongue inside her wet sleeve and wriggling it.

"Oh! Oh, Severus! Damn! My . . . gods! Shit!" Hermione gasped, locking her hands painfully in his hair and losing it as everything inside her seemed to coil up into a tight intense point of almost unbearable pleasure. Damn. He sure knew how to eat pussy

This only served to make the wizard go at her with even more gusto, feeling her thighs quivering on either side of his head as she yanked at his hair. Yes, it hurt, but this was worth it . . . hearing the witch gasp his name passionately, feeling her body flowing to the edge, waiting for the inevitable payout . . .

Then Hermione came with a shriek, a hot gush of fluid pouring out of her, bathing the wizard's lower face as she released, groaning, pushing against him as he drank her down, every hot, delicious drop of her surrender, his heart pounding as he suckled at her tenderly, his tongue still pleasuring her as he consumed his fill. Yes, he had taken her to the first level, the witch writhing, muttering incoherent words as she came back to earth, Snape finally finishing, pulling himself upward and kissing Hermione, her flavor still on his lips and tongue as he delved into her mouth against, the witch's arms wrapping around him. Her embrace felt wonderful. Real.

All of this was real and that was what endeared Hermione to him more as he continued kissing her until her quaking subsided. He pulled away from her mouth and looked down at her. She panted a bit, then gave him a small, rather embarrassed smile. He quirked his mouth at her.

"Happy Christmas," he said to the witch softly.

"Happy Christmas," she whispered back at him.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her, then ground against her gently, making Hermione's breath hitch as his cloth encased cock made its presence known. Clearly known.

"I think it's time I unwrap the real package I have for you," he breathed, kissing her once more then rolling off the witch and standing up. He removed his boots and socks, lifting first one foot then the other, balancing perfectly as he did so.

Hermione watched him breathlessly as he slowly removed his trousers, revealing Slytherin green boxers that rose high up his thigh because of the size of his erection.

Then he removed the boxers themselves.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the wait all. Thanks for reading. 


	70. Clarity

**Chapter 69 Clarity**

The wizard bent, sliding his boxers down over his long legs and stepping out of them, leaving them on the floor, then straightened, his dark eyes resting on Hermione, watching her reaction.

Hermione's mouth dropped open.

"Oh dear Circe," she breathed as she stared at his huge cock. As stated before, his loins were hairless, in fact, there was no hair on any part of his body, not even under his arms. His organ was enormous, pale, thick and uncircumcised, the foreskin seeming to be pulled back as the shaft stretched toward her as if a divining rod. The head was bulbous, a bit darker than the rest of him, and the tip was leaking. He had to be at least ten inches long . . . at least that. Hermione had never seen a tool that big or that looked that strong. His girth was daunting as well.

A bit of the color drained out of her face as she looked at his attribute.

Severus began to stroke it gently as if to show it wouldn't bite. Hermione watched him, mesmerized as the soft skin shifted as he moved his hand back and forth.

"I think," the wizard said in a low voice, "That the size of my cock was nature's way of compensating for my looks. Unfortunately, it's not what the fairer sex first sees when I'm coming."

Hermione swallowed, then said in a weak voice, "It's . . . huge, Severus."

He nodded, his eyes resting on her.

"I'm well endowed, yes," he purred at her, "But, you'll feel that for yourself in a moment."

He began to walk toward the bed, moving like a cat, Hermione aware of just how strongly he was built as he began to climb in.

"Wait. I want to ask you something first," Hermione said, blinking at him rapidly as he and his monstrous tool approached her.

Severus stopped and straightened.

"Ask then," he said, impatience clearly in his voice.

"Why are you . . . hairless? Do you shave?" she asked him curiously.

The dark wizard scowled.

"No. I've been like this since my sixth year at Hogwarts," he said, his face contorting slightly. "I was on the Slytherin Quidditch team, and after every game I would shower, then apply powder to my body to stay cool. Sirius Black thought it would be funny to sneak into the locker room and replace my powder with permanent Hair Removing powder. The result of which you see now."

Hermione stared at him. Sirius had done this? No wonder he hated him.

"Good thing you didn't powder your hair or face," she said to him.

"Yes. I gave him a large pair of breasts as punishment, but they weren't permanent unfortunately. Although I did get a good laugh when everyone kept feeling him up," the wizard responded. "I had to suffer through him calling me 'Snivelus the Hairless' until I graduated."

"That's terrible," Hermione said sympathetically.

Snape suddenly looked a bit vulnerable.

"Does my being hairless bother you?" he asked the witch.

Hermione's eyes swept over him. Actually, the lack of hair on his pale body made him look like a living statue. It was kind of sexy. But damn . . . that cock.

"No, it doesn't," she said, her voice once again tremulous.

Severus' nodded soberly.

"Good. There will be no impediments when we are skin to skin," he breathed, his eyes going hot and once again getting ready to climb into the bed. Hermione felt panic wash over her.

"Um . . . I have to go to the bathroom," she said quickly, sitting up and sliding past him.

"Now?" Severus said, partially in the bed.

"Better now than during," Hermione replied, fleeing for the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

Severus sighed, turned and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at his erection.

"That woman's timing is atrocious," he breathed, then looked at the door, waiting.

* * *

Hermione leaned against the bathroom door, her belly in knots. Gods, what was she doing? Just a few minutes ago she'd felt like she'd die if Severus didn't take her. And now she was hiding out in his bathroom, pretending she had to pee. She looked around the small room. It was done in green and silver marble.

"How Slytherin can you get?" she commented, then decided she'd better use the loo.

She went, wiping herself but not flushing the toilet. She sat there, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried to imagine what he would be like when fucking her. He was a strong wizard. It wasn't his size that scared her so much, but his strength. What if he lost control and started pummeling her with that battering ram he had swinging between his legs? It was more like nature had given him a weapon rather than "compensation." The wizard could break her in half.

Ron had been a nice size. Average really. Even he could get a bit rough however when the sex was good to him. Hermione didn't do rough well. Naturally, she was nervous. She sat on the loo in silence, unable to bring herself to flush and leave the bathroom.

After a couple of minutes, Severus rose, walked up to the door and knocked.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" he called through the door, the witch started.

"Yes," she said in a small voice, then added, "I had a big supper at the Burrow. I'll be out."

Severus stared at the door. There was a note in her voice that caught his attention. She wasn't telling him the truth.

"All right," he said, returning to the bed, his eyes once again resting on the door.

He believed Hermione was frightened. He had no doubt the witch wanted him. That much he was sure of, but it was down to the wire now. Intimacy was assured. Her body would become his and this was the last hesitation, the last wall that had to come down. She had to trust him. He looked down at his slightly deflating erection. Yes, his size was daunting, but he would never hurt Hermione. He had never brutalized any witch he'd engaged. It wasn't his nature. He only sought pleasure and didn't get it in such a manner. He'd seen enough suffering and cruelty inflicted on women while in service to the Dark Lord. Severus Snape was a fighter, but a lover too.

Finally, he stood up and knocked on the door again.

"Hermione, come out," he said softly.

Hermione didn't answer him, but knew she was busted. Even trolls didn't take this long to shit.

"Hermione, open the door," Severus said again, his voice becoming a bit harsh.

She rose off the loo and walked over to the vanity, leaning back against it and holding herself with her arms.

"Hermione, there's nothing to be worried about," the wizard said through the door, "I would never do anything to hurt you. All I want is to be close to you, to give you pleasure, to make you . . . make you see how I feel about you . . . my affection for you, my desire for you . . ."

Snape hesitated.

"I want to make you love me," he breathed.

Hermione's eyes filled at his declaration. Gods, he was so honest that it hurt.

"Please. Please open the door," Severus said to the witch, "Don't reject me. Not now. Not when we're so close to finding each other, Hermione. Not when I'm so close to finding . . ."

His voice faltered.

Hermione stared at the door. Reject him? She didn't want to reject him. She just . . . just . . . she didn't know what was happening. But she did know one thing . . . she didn't want to hurt him. Slowly, Hermione walked to the door and pulled it open, looking up at the wizard standing on the other side.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she said softly.

"Cold feet," he replied, gently pulling her against him, her soft warm body causing an immediate reaction, his semi-flaccid cock once again filling with blood and pulsing against her body. Hermione let out a little gasp as she felt it throb against her.

"I promise I won't hurt you," he said in a low whisper, "I need you to trust me, Hermione. Trust will be the foundation of everything between us. Trust me now, witch. I have nothing but affection for you and I'm teetering on the brink of something more, something deeper, something more substantial. Take me over the brink, Hermione. Give me the opportunity to fall over, to tumble, to become lost in the amazing, complicated, infuriating woman that you are . . . give me the opportunity to fall completely in love with you."

Hermione had never been spoken to with such great emotion, with such a desperate honesty. Did he want her so much? What would it be like to be loved by Severus Snape? Dear gods, how had she ever thought him cold and untouchable? He was willing to be touched, in fact, he longed for it. His desire to be loved was both sad and beautiful. How could she ever turn him away?

"Oh, Severus," Hermione breathed, reaching up and pulling him down into the most tender kiss she could muster. She felt his need, and it wasn't animal. He wanted connection. He wanted to be wanted.

And he was.

* * *

A/N: All right. I know it's a short chapter, but I had to go to this place first. Now, we are clearly standing in the orchards. All that's needed now is to squeeeeeeze those lemons. I really feel I need to draw the tension out because there were so many chapters without intimacy, and there are levels of it beyond physical. Though we all know what the final outcome will be between the couple, it is the moments like this that can cement everything in place for those seeking love in the long run. The hesitance, the fear, the opening up of honest emotion, and above all communication. We have all that now. The story can move forward. Thanks for reading. 


	71. At Last

**Chapter 70 At Last**

Severus deepened the kiss, drawing Hermione into his body, at last skin to skin, their tongues entwining, lapping, exploring and consuming the other's heat, warmth, a small but hungry possession. The Potions master suddenly lifted the witch, Hermione legs wrapping around his waist, the heat of her core pressed against his belly, her breasts mashed against his chest and her buttocks touching his rigid cock, bouncing against it lightly as they continued to kiss passionately. Hermione's body slid against his lean form sensuously, their heads tilting side to side as they maneuvered, probed, and consumed, lips locking and unlocking, Severus making silken sounds of pleasure as Hermione's voice rose and fell in husky counterpoint while he caressed her, each losing themselves in the other's fire.

There was no turning back now. There was no fear, no apprehension, only need, a powerful need to join, to be one, to become as close to each other as humanly possible. As he kissed Hermione, Severus Snape had never in his life felt the need for someone else as strongly as he did now. He felt torn, separated, halved and the feeling of being incomplete was overpowering. It was as if the other part of himself was in his arms, pressing against him as if she longed to sink beneath his skin and merge with him.

He pulled away from Hermione's mouth, gasping as he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent, his body taut against her softness, before he latched on to her throat, licking and kissing, Hermione throwing her head aside and nearly whimpering. She too felt the urge to be completed, to be made whole, to be one with this passionate, overwhelming man driving her nearly insane with his kisses and his touch.

"Severus," she breathed, "my gods, you have to . . . I need . . ." she moaned as his lips moved over her shoulder. She could feel his erection hard and hot against her cheek.

"Tell me . . . tell me what you need, Hermione Weasley," he breathed against her ear, then licking the shell of it.

"I need you. Inside me . . . I feel as if I'll die if we don't . . ." Hermione hissed.

She felt the wizard suddenly shudder and he pulled back, his eyes smoldering.

"You need me, Hermione or want me?" he asked her, his voice raw with desire.

"I both want and need you, Severus," she breathed back at him, "I don't think I've ever wanted . . ."

Hermione faltered a moment, feeling a twinge of guilt at her near admittance as to how much more the wizard aroused her than her own husband had. Oh she had loved Ron dearly, but he never made her feel like this . . .

Severus carried Hermione over to his nightstand where his wand lay. He picked it up and pulled back from her slightly, inserting the tip of his wand between their bodies so it rested on her lower belly just above her pubic hair. He whispered a contraceptive charm and Hermione felt a tingling. The wizard placed the wand back on the nightstand. Then he kissed her.

"That's all I've wanted to hear these last few months, Hermione, for you to say you want me," Severus said to her, gently raising her body and reaching beneath her.

Hermione gasped as she felt the hot head of his cock rest against her core. It felt enormous.

"And you will have me," he breathed, pressing upward and gently easing his girth and length inside her, his eyes locked to Hermione's face as she let out a small cry of pleasure at the exquisite feeling of his size, heat and hardness entering her body. He was so big, but gods, he felt sooo good. Severus bit his lip as she wrapped around his length, hot, wet tight. He impaled Hermione, keeping her slightly lifted so he didn't go too deep.

"Oh . . . Severus," Hermione said in a near sob, leaning her face into his shoulder. Gods, this felt so right, he felt so right. Reflexively, she tightened her inner muscles to feel him more and the wizard groaned.

"You sweet witch," he said softly, lifting her again then easing her down, his mouth dropping open as she slid over him. Hermione let out another moan of pleasure as he moved through her, caressing her internally, their bodies locked together, the distance between them bridged, the ache of separation replaced by wholeness, oneness. They were part of each other now.

Severus held her steady, his breathing heavy as he reveled in the feel of Hermione, the closeness, the completeness he felt buried inside her softness. He pulled her head back by the hair and kissed her deeply, beginning to thrust, swallowing down her soft cries as he pierced her over and over, gently, carefully, catching a steady rhythm, bliss flowing through him as he claimed her, took her, possessed her. Hermione was his now and he meant to keep her at all costs.

Outside, soft, white flakes begin to fall, covering the earth. Inside, witch and wizard also ebbed and flowed together, Severus' lean body moving rhythmically, his hips flexing into the witch wrapped around him, his mouth covering hers as his strong arms lifted and lowered her, occasionally whirling her around him, Hermione gasping into his mouth as his girth stretched her in ways she had never been stretched. But it didn't hurt. It felt indescribable

Severus pulled back from her lips, still stroking into her soft, luscious sleeve, the witch rising and falling in his arms. He studied her face, the look of surrender and acceptance it evidenced. Gods, she was beautiful

"I told you I wouldn't hurt you," he said to Hermione softly, the witch's eyes wet and glazed with passion as she met his gaze.

"No," she whispered, her eyes closing as she bit her lip, the wizard's strong arms wrapped around her, controlling their motions, orchestrating their pleasure.

Suddenly, Severus stopped moving and Hermione's eyes flew open, filled with longing.

"Don't stop, Severus," she breathed at him.

"Oh no," he responded, kissing her again as he carried her to the bed, still embedded inside her. Carefully he lowered Hermione crossways in the bed, lying on top of her, gently pulling her arms from around his neck and stretching them over her head, their fingers interlocked as he looked down at her.

"I believe I've fallen over the precipice," he said softly, then began to move, stroking Hermione deeply, his body rippling, undulating sensually, Hermione's breasts bouncing rhythmically as the wizard moved faster, using his length to full advantage, drawing out almost completely, then entering her as deep as he could go until he was checked by her body. Hermione once again began to cry out in pleasure as he put it to her, pressing kisses to her throat and breasts. Damn, sex had never been this good.

Hermione was too far gone to feel guilty about this. Severus Snape was taking everything she was and making it his own. He was gentle, but thorough, listening to her responses, learning what brought her higher, his silken groans peppering their union, his pale back glistening in the torchlight as he perspired, his hair swinging around his face. Beneath him, Hermione began to quake, arching upward, her voice rising an octave.

"Yes . . . yes. Let go for me, Hermione. Show me I can take you where you need to go," he urged her, rising up on his hands and beginning to stroke her a bit harder and faster, driving her to the brink, Hermione clutching at his arms as the dam broke and she was flung into bliss, spinning, then melting, pulsing, quaking around his thrusting cock, Severus letting out a choked growl as her climax washed over him, his glistening organ squelching through her rich release.

He pulled out of Hermione and quickly turned her on her belly, drawing the witch to her knees, then stood, grasped the base of his shaft and found his mark, re-entering the witch, watching his thick, pale tool delve into her body. He caressed her back gently as he took her, watching her buttocks ripple with each thrust. Hermione jerked helplessly, still coming down from her orgasm, her hair flung around her face wildly as the Potions master took his fill, now gripping her waist and drawing her into him, slowing every now and then to watch his penetration, one hand smoothing over her skin. His hair was stuck to his head now, wet from sweat and effort. He felt himself tightening, pleasure running down his spine.

He pulled out of the witch again and rather roughly flipped her to her back, falling on top of her, wanting to be face to face when he released. Hermione felt the change in him, the urgency, once more voicing her pleasure as the wizard increased his speed, and added his own voice to hers, a steady growl increasing in volume as he stared down at where their bodies met, his cock burying itself in her soft, pink flesh over and over. His face began to contort as he fought to get in the last delicious strokes, to extend his possession of this beautiful woman beneath him, the pressure and pleasure he felt almost unbearable.

Suddenly Severus slammed into Hermione, arching, letting out a roar as he ejaculated, filling her with his seed as he shuddered. Hermione climaxed again, her release blending with his own as they pulsed together like a common heartbeat, the wizard dropping on her, kissing Hermione hungrily as her arms wrapped around him. It was the sweetest embrace he could ever remember. Sweeter even than the rare embraces Lily would give him.

Of course Hermione's embrace was sweeter. She was here and real, and cared for him, returning his affection. Severus tenderly brushed her hair away from her face. It was dark and curled with dampness as she looked up at him with soft eyes. The way she looked at him made his stomach tighten with emotion. Had he done it? Had he made her love him?

As much as he wanted to, Severus couldn't ask her. He would have to wait and see. Realistically he knew that it would take more than one passionate encounter to completely win the witch's heart, but still, it was a pleasant thought. Hermione had been wonderful, passionate and everything he had hoped she'd be. Although he couldn't be sure it was love in those amber eyes, he knew there was something that hadn't been there before, something good, something that had meaning. And it was all for him.

"Are you all right?" he asked her, slowly withdrawing from her body with a sigh and kissing Hermione's forehead.

Hermione stretched and gave him a warm smile.

"I'm fine, Severus," she said softly, noticing the harshness of his features were softened as he looked down at her. She pulled him into another kiss before releasing him.

"More than fine," she breathed. "What about you?"

Severus arched an eyebrow at her, licking his lips as if tasting her last kiss.

"I'm far from satisfied," he replied.

Hermione looked a bit stricken. What? Didn't he like having sex with her? He seemed as if he did.

"With the quantity," he added, with a smirk, sliding off the witch, then caressing her belly, his dark eyes washing over her ample curves. "I believe I will have to go in again several times before the night is over."

Hermione blinked at him. Several times?

"Several times? I've never had sex more than twice a night in my life," the witch said to him.

Snape snorted.

"That is going to change, believe me," he purred, kissing her again.

Then his stomach rumbled.

"Hm. I believe I detected the delectable scent of turkey and stuffing when you arrived," he said to Hermione.

His nose never failed him. It was just he was more hungry for Hermione than for dinner when she arrived. But now, he was starving.

"Yes. Turkey, stuffing and other foods" Hermione replied. "I'm sure Molly piled it on."

Severus rolled out of bed, turned and looked down on her.

"I believe I'll go heat it up. I need to build up my strength. I'd like to at least double your sex record for one night," he said, his eyes once again sweeping over her body.

Hermione felt a pulse as her own eyes washed over him, resting on his flaccid organ. Severus was wonderful in bed. And she had needed a good shag. He certainly supplied that, giving her two toe-curling orgasms during the same act. A record for sure.

"You look a bit hungry as well," the wizard commented, noting where her eyes rested.

Hermione blushed.

"We'll split the meal," he said, "Then, I'll feed your other hungers. I'll be right back."

Severus strode from the room without as much as putting on a house robe. Well, it was his house after all. Hermione rolled to the edge of the bed, feeling a delicious little burn inside her, the remnants of Severus' loving. She shuddered as she relived their encounter, how focused and gentle the wizard was. There had only been one moment of real ache, and that was when he came and thrust inside her to the hilt. But she hadn't cared at that point. She had been approaching her own pinnacle of pleasure for the second time. Even sex had its selfish moments.

She walked over to her discarded clothes and retrieved her wand, scourgifying herself, then the bed, which was damp from their bodies. She looked at the large four-poster. They hadn't even got into it properly.

Well, maybe next go-round they'd manage it.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	72. A Tie

**Chapter 71 A Tie**

Presently, Severus returned with two piping hot plates of food and utensils. He also had the present Hermione brought him. However, he didn't bring anything to drink, and Hermione was parched.

He set the present on the nightstand, then handed Hermione her plate and sat down on the bed to join her. He dug in, eating a bit of potato slowly and looking at Hermione, who was nude but heartily digging into her food as well. Her appetite was back.

"There's something to be said for naked dining," the wizard commented as Hermione, whose mouth was full of food, gave him a full body blush. The wizard smirked and returned to his food.

Hermione looked at him.

"You didn't bring anything to drink," she said to the wizard.

"Easily rectified," he replied, "Eli!"

Hermione shrieked and bent over, trying to hide her nudity from the smiling elf when he suddenly winked in.

"Yes, Master?" Eli said, still smiling.

"Bring us a cold pitcher of pumpkin juice and two glasses. You may put them on the nightstand," he said, unaffected by Hermione's reaction.

"Right away, sir," Eli responded, winking out.

Hermione straightened, scowling at the wizard as he stuffed a piece of turkey into his mouth.

"Severus! How could you summon Eli when I'm sitting here naked?" she asked him furiously.

The wizard stopped eating and raised both eyebrows at her in surprise.

"Eli's a house elf, Hermione. He has no interest in whether or not you are showing your ample little charms," he replied, "It's like being naked in front of a familiar or . . . or a muggle dog."

"Still, it's uncomfortable," Hermione said, letting out another squeal and bending defensively as Eli reappeared, smiling, and set the pitcher of pumpkin juice and two glasses on the nightstand before winking out again.

Severus returned to eating. Furious, Hermione set her plate on the bed, stormed over to their discarded clothes (which Severus found quite interesting since her buttocks were shifting with very animated purpose), studied them a moment, then picked up his white shirt and slipped it on, buttoning two buttons, then rejoining him on the bed.

Severus looked at her legs sticking out from under the shirt, which was long on her.

"I must say I like the way that shirt fits you better than me," he said, a lascivious little smirk on his face.

Mad, Hermione didn't say anything but ate the rest of her food, the wizard pouring her a pumpkin juice when she finished, watching her drink it down, then taking the glass and plate from her and setting them on the nightstand.

He picked up the present.

"For me, I presume?" he asked her.

"Yes, it is," Hermione replied shortly, still angry about the Eli incident.

Severus unwrapped the gift and studied the mortar and pestle.

"Hm, non-reactive and Slytherin colors. This is one of the nicer sets I've seen," he said appreciatively, "Thank you, Hermione. I will put it to good use. One can never have enough potions utensils."

She gave him a little smile. He liked it.

Severus set the gift on the nightstand as well, just as Eli winked in to clear the plates. He didn't even look toward Hermione as he collected them, but he was still smiling. He winked out again.

The Potions master pulled out his nightstand drawer, reached in and pulled out a small present, wrapped in silver wrapping paper with a green bow. He offered it to Hermione.

"Happy Christmas," he said to her softly.

Hermione unwrapped the present. It was a lidded box. She opened it and smiled. It was a gold bracelet with several tiny lions on it, with small rubies for eyes.

"Oh, it's gorgeous, Severus," Hermione said, lifting it out of the box and studying it. "Thank you."

She leaned in and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. He looked at her soberly for a moment, then said, "Allow me" and took the bracelet from her. Hermione held out her wrist. Severus shook his head.

"No. This goes around your ankle," he said, reaching down and snagging a leg, pulling it up across his knees. This had the effect of Hermione falling on to the bed on her back.

"Severus!" she cried as the wizard chuckled, then clasped the bracelet around her ankle, flicking one of the lions with a pale finger. It let out a little chime when it bumped into the next charm.

"Yes," he breathed.

Hermione sat up and studied the bracelet. She had never worn anything on her ankles before but it looked nice. Rather sexy too. Then she felt a slight tingle around the bracelet.

"What was that?" she asked the wizard, "That tingle?"

"Oh. The bracelet is charmed to your signature," he replied, "and you can turn the tinkle off or on by saying either 'mute' or 'sound' in a commanding voice. But leave it on for now. I want to hear it play a little symphony when we next engage."

The wizard, now well-nourished and refreshed, leaned in . . . his eyes slightly predatory.

"Which will be . . . now," he said silkily, darting forward, capturing the startled witch's lips and taking her down to the mattress.

* * *

Severus didn't manage to break Hermione's record of two sex acts for the night, simply because he lasted much longer the second go around, pleasuring the witch for more than an hour and a half, although the act was interspersed with kisses, intimate caresses and more oral sex. The wizard loved touching her, exploring every inch of her body and stimulating her with his long, talented fingers, bringing the witch to fever pitch after fever pitch, then continuing his possession.

What Hermione noticed through her haze of wanton pleasure, was that although Severus was for the most part gentle and focused with her, he seemed to like positions that clearly gave him the upper hand, locking her body in submissive, very accessible positions, constantly pinning down her arms and legs or holding them in such a way that she wouldn't be able to break free from him.

Not that she wanted to.

Severus was also very vocal, his silken voice crooning at her as he thrust into her delightedly, pleasure and appreciation in his dark eyes as he encouraged her to let go, to open up to him, to let him release her. Gods, he was amazing. The Potions master had to catch himself several times, becoming lost in his ardor for the witch. Hermione crying out into his mouth as he plunged too deep. He stopped and kissed her tenderly as he apologized and managed to talk her into letting him continue.

Hermione had never felt more fully possessed than when Severus finished, his pale body soaked in perspiration as he curled over her, quaking as the last bit of his release ebbed. Hermione was exhausted, sliding face first into the pillows, the wizard lying on her back, kissing her shoulders tenderly.

Try as he might, Severus couldn't convince her to accept him again, record breaking be damned. Hermione didn't plan on dying of excessive pleasure on Christmas night. Her children would be traumatized for life, particularly Rose, who convinced her to come see the wizard; and besides, who wanted their epitaph to read something along the lines of: "She entered his bed, and now she's dead?"

The following morning they showered together, Hermione's muscles sore and achy from the unaccustomed activity. The Potions master had stretched and bent her unmercifully. She moved so slowly that Severus became concerned and insisted she let him treat her before Molly Weasley sent Aurors after him for assaulting her with great malice.

"You're going to have to shape up, witch," Severus said as he gently rubbed salve into Hermione's aching joints and muscles, smoothing his hands over her curves as she lay face down in his bed. "I'll come up with a potion for you after this."

"You're never touching me again," Hermione groaned into the pillow.

Severus smirked as he continued touching her. She'd let him do it again, he knew it. Hermione responded to him so sweetly, gave him not only her body but something more. He could see it in the witch's eyes as he slid inside her, every delicious stroke into her warmth an answered prayer. It felt good to be wanted and needed. He did his best to answer her every need as he slaked his own. He believed, despite her declaration, he had secured a place in her heart last night.

"Flip over," he growled, turning the witch roughly, grinning inwardly at the furious look on her face as he did so.

* * *

Fully restored by Severus' ministrations, Hermione returned reluctantly to the Burrow. It was clear the wizard wanted her to stay, though he didn't say it, and it was clear to Severus Hermione wanted to stay as well, but she had family obligations. He was going to have to get used to that. Actually, he admired her for being so dutiful. Family was important. He only hoped that they would accept his intrusion into their lives.

Before Hermione left, Severus asked her if she wouldn't mind giving him one more Christmas present.

"What?" she asked him suspiciously. If it were "one for the road" he could forget it.

"I would like," he said softly, "A photograph of you to keep by my bedside."

Hermione looked up at the wizard, her eyes softening.

"Of course, Severus," she replied, moved.

That evening, Eli delivered a small envelope to his Master.

"From the Miss," the elf said with a smile.

Eli had been smiling quite a bit lately.

Snape looked surprised as the elf handed him the package.

"How did you get this Eli? Hermione is at the Burrow," he said to the elf.

"She summons me," he said shortly, "I can goes to her now outside the site, because of the in-outie."

"In-outie? What in the world is that?" Severus asked him.

In response, Eli did a very disturbing series of vigorous loin thrusts.

"In-outie," he said by way of clarification.

Snape blinked at him, finding no words to express his response to the elf's rather lewd display. Clearly he meant sexual intercourse.

"She is yours now, and I serves you and her until she is no longer yours," Eli explained. "I serves her because I serves you and you are one."

Snape nodded.

"Well, plan to be serving her for a very long time, Eli. I have no intentions of letting her go," the wizard replied, beginning to open the envelope.

He pulled out a picture of Hermione smiling, her eyes bright and chin resting on her hand. She blinked. Snape stared at the photo, drawing a finger down the side of her face.

"Thank you, Eli," he said, rising from the armchair and walking into his bedroom.

Snape sat down on the bed, reached into his nightstand and pulled out the framed torn photo of Lily Potter. He looked at it for a moment, then turned the frame over and removed the backing, then the photo. He placed the photo back in his nightstand, then placed Hermione's photo inside the frame, carefully centering it, then replacing the backing and pulling out the little stand. He set it on the nightstand, adjusting it several times.

"My new obsession," he said softly, gazing at Hermione gazing back at him.

"My new love."

* * *

Hermione returned to the Burrow in much brighter spirits and it was noticeable. She had a glow about her. Molly eyed her as she cleared the breakfast dishes, Rose and Hermione helping her.

"Did you have a nice visit with the Professor," she asked her daughter-in-law.

"Yes. It was very nice," Hermione said with a dreamy quality to her voice.

"Did he like your present, mum?" Rose inquired, looking at her mother a bit strangely.

"Yes he did. He said one could never have enough potions utensils," Hermione replied, picking up several mugs and walking into the kitchen. Molly and Rose followed her. She deposited the mugs in the sink.

"What did he give you?" Molly asked her, a bit pointedly.

She already suspected what he'd given her, and it wasn't anything that could be put into a box. Not a cardboard box anyway.

"Oh, he gave me this," Hermione said, bending down, pulling up her jeans and pulling down her sock.

"Oh, that's so cute, mum! An ankle charm bracelet," Rose said smiling at the little dangling lions.

Molly didn't comment, although the bracelet was very nice. She was studying her daughter-in-law, noting the look in her eyes. She sighed inwardly.

Hermione was moving on. Molly Weasley had seen that look enough to know what it was. The look of Love. Hermione was in love with Professor Snape and it wasn't a look that was in her eyes the day before. Whatever happened last night had a profound effect on the witch. She had truly let go of Ron.

This realization caused a little stab in Molly's heart and her eyes glistened a bit as she began to hand wash the breakfast dishes, just to have something physical to do to counteract the emotional turmoil she was going through.

"We're going to get the rest of the dishes, Molly," Hermione said to her with a smile, exiting the kitchen with Rose.

Molly drew in a shuddering breath, several tears dropping into the dishwater.

"Molly Weasley, you've got to buck up," she told herself, dabbing at her eyes with her apron in an attempt to clear them before the two witches returned.

"After all, Life is for the living," she breathed, returning to the dishes.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	73. A Rather Serious Talk

**Chapter 72 A Rather Serious Talk**

Hermione and the children spent an enjoyable few days at the Burrow before returning to the worksite. Hugo was beside himself with excitement, particularly since he learned all the wards were down.

"Now Hugo," Hermione said to him with a frown, "the professor doesn't want you tramping all over his fields. The wards are down but the fields are still off limits. The soil is being treated."

"Don't worry mum. The fields will be fine," Hugo replied grinning.

Rose looked at her brother, noticing immediately he didn't promise not to explore the fields. Ah well. If mum didn't catch it, then she certainly wasn't going to say anything about it.

They apparated to the site, Hugo running up the path to the building. The door immediately opened.

"Mr. Hugo Weasley entering the premises. Authorized," the female voice said as Hugo entered. He went straight to the apartment and waited for his mother and sister, bouncing on his toes.

"Hurry up, mum!" he called to Hermione.

"What's the rush, Hugo?" Hermione asked him as she opened the apartment and Hugo went in.

"I want to put my things away," he said, hurrying to his bedroom, taking his bags out of his pocket and enlarging them. Suddenly Eli winked in, smiling at the boy.

"I will puts those away, Master Hugo," the elf said pleasantly.

Hugo stared at Eli. He was never a very friendly house elf. Then he shrugged.

"Thanks Eli," he said, hurrying back into the living room, then into Rose's room.

"You don't have to put your stuff away. Eli will do it. Now come on, let's go look around," he said to his sister, catching her hand.

Rose scowled at him.

"Hugo, you better not be planning on doing anything that's going to get us in trouble," she warned him as she rewrapped her scarf.

"Of course I'm not," he said to her with a broad smile.

Rose looked doubtful, but followed him out. Hermione was in the kitchen brewing a bit of tea. She peeked out.

"Are you two heading out already?" she called.

"Yes mum," they both answered together.

"Well, remember what I told you about the fields," she chided them.

"We will mum. We're not dense," Hugo replied, heading out the door, followed by Rose.

The mountainside was very pretty covered with snow, and they wandered down the path until they came to the first field. It didn't look very interesting at all.

"Come on, Rose," Hugo said, but Rose held back.

"Hugo, it doesn't look very interesting. Let's just keep walking," she suggested.

Hugo scowled at her.

"Rose, it's not that it's interesting, it's just that it's off limits. That's the fun of it. There aren't any wards because there aren't any plants. So come on. I just want to walk through it," he argued, tugging on her sleeve.

"But mum said the soil's being prepared. Walking on it might mess it up in some way, Hugo?" Rose responded.

"If several inches of freezing snow won't hurt it, we won't Rose. Stop being a killjoy," he said to her.

Rose sighed.

"All right, Hugo . . . Just a quick walkthrough."

* * *

Hermione was sitting in the living room drinking her second cup of tea when she heard the female voice announce Hugo's and Rose's return.

"Hm. They weren't gone very long," she said to herself. "Maybe they got cold."

She waited. It seemed to take a long time for them to come in. Maybe they went to the ROR. Suddenly, a heavy thump sounded on her apartment door. It didn't quite sound like a knock

"What in the world?" Hermione said, putting down her tea and walking over to the apartment door and pulling it open. She stared out of it for a moment, then pinched her nose, shaking her head.

Both Rose and Hugo stood there, covered in pink bubble gum. But because it was so cold outside, it had hardened and they were completely encased in it, only eyeholes and nose holes apparent. They rocked oddly, shuffling forward.

"I don't think the wards were really down, mum," Hugo said as he shuffled past her.

Rose said nothing as she rocked her way inside as well.

In his house, Severus was trying to catch his breath, he was laughing so hard, doubled over in the armchair in front of the fireplace, the magic mirror dangling dangerously in one pale hand. That would show the little devils.

He suspected that despite Hermione's assurances, Hugo and Rose would not be able to resist the fields, simply because they were told not to enter it. He watched from the moment they left the site, to when they approached the fields. For a moment, it seemed as if logic would win out as Rose and her brother talked. It was easy to see who the ringleader was as Hugo pulled Rose forward and she started walking with him.

Severus had set the wards far enough back so the pair were relatively confident they were safe before the gum hit them, Rose yelling at Hugo and Hugo laughing uproariously as they were covered from head to toe. Then the gum hardened and both of them fell over.

Severus had to wipe the tears from his eyes when that happened. Then they were both whooshed back to the site and were on their own once they were inside.

Hermione was probably going to be livid, but he told her he expected them to stay out of the fields. It wasn't his fault they were natural-born rule breakers. It was a matter of genetics.

* * *

Hermione was walking up the hall when the female voice announced Severus was entering the premises. Scowling she folded her arms and waited as the wizard billowed up to her, his eyes rather hot.

"Welcome back, Hermione," he said silkily.

"Don't 'Welcome Back' me, Severus Snape. You set up Rose and Hugo!" she snapped at him.

Severus looked shocked.

"What do you mean, I set them up? I did no such thing," he said to the witch.

"Yes you did! You told me the fields weren't warded," Hermione replied, frowning.

"They weren't at the time. They are now. Besides, didn't you tell me they wouldn't be visiting the fields?" he asked her, fighting back a smirk.

Hermione looked a bit taken aback by this statement. She had told him that.

"Yes. Yes I did, but still they . . ." she began.

"Apparently, they ignored your warnings. I imagine you did tell them to stay out," he asked Hermione, knowing she did.

"Apparently," she agreed, "But still, you put the wards back up . . ."

"I discovered there were creatures scratching at the soil," the wizard lied, "I have to protect my interests."

Hermione glared at the wizard, who looked at her soberly. Then she sighed.

"They should have listened," she said, her shoulders slumping a bit in defeat.

"Yes, they should have. Where are they now?" he asked the witch.

"In the steam room. The gum hardened and has to soften up before they can wash it off," she said.

Severus' mouth worked a bit. It would be unseemly for him to burst out in laughter at Hermione's offspring's predicament.

"Maybe I can offer some assistance," the wizard said, wanting to see them for himself.

"Fine. Come on," Hermione snapped, still miffed at the wizard and stalking back toward the exercise room.

Severus followed her. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater. His eyes rested on her hips and he felt a bit of a pulse as he remembered the last time they were together. He sped up, catching her before she opened the door. He caught the knob and she turned to face him.

"Severus what are you . . ." she started to say before the wizard captured her mouth in a rather hungry kiss. She couldn't help but respond as his passion rushed over her.

He pulled away from her mouth, his dark eyes glittering.

"I wanted to give you a proper greeting," he said to her in a low voice, "I've missed you, witch."

Hermione colored at the look in his eyes.

"I've missed you too," she replied softly.

"How much?" he asked her, a deeper question in his eyes.

"Enough to be happy to see you," Hermione replied, not about to even hint that she wanted to tangle with him again yet. That had been some night and every time she thought about it, she was overwhelmed.

Severus pursed his lips at her and straightened, understanding. He hadn't expected her to return randy and ready. She wasn't that kind of witch and he appreciated that. But there would be another time . . . and another . . .

"Let us check on your issue," he said, opening the door and letting Hermione in, following behind her. He looked toward the glass encased steam room, unable to see anything for the steam.

"You have it up rather high," he said to Hermione, walking over to the temperature control and turning it down a few notches.

"The gum was unbelievably hard," she replied, looking at the steam filled room as it slowly cleared, revealing two very damp figures with melted pink gum dripping off them. Hugo waved as Rose looked disgusted.

Severus made a noise and Hermione looked at him sharply.

"You find this funny!" she accused him.

Severus didn't speak, his Adam's apple working up and down furiously.

"Admit it! You think this is hilarious!" Hermione said, stomping her foot just as Rose gave the wizard a sorrowful, rather hangdog look.

Severus burst out in rich laughter, guffawing as Hermione looked at him completely shocked. She didn't know he could laugh like that. And goodness, did he laugh and laugh . . . Hugo laughing along with him as both witches scowled. After a good three minutes, wiping his eyes with his hand, Severus pulled out his wand and strode toward the steam room, muttering something and flicking his wand at the pair. Instantly they were not only cleaned of the bubble gum, but dry too.

Hugo was the first out of the steamroom.

"Thanks Professor," he said, grinning up at the wizard, whose black eyes were still full of mirth.

"You're welcome, Mr. Weasley," he replied.

"Call me Hugo," the boy said brightly.

"You're welcome, Hugo," the Potions master said with a slight nod, his mouth quirking.

Rose on the other hand, glared at the tall wizard.

"Mum said the wards were down," she said to the Potions master accusingly.

"They were, Miss Weasley, at the time. However, the situation changed and I had to erect them again. I was assured that you and your brother would avoid the areas. This is quite . . . unfortunate," he said in a tight voice.

Rose didn't help any because she looked so pissed. In fact, she and Hermione wore almost identical expressions of aggravation.

Hugo studied Severus. He knew immediately that the wizard put the wards up just so they'd be covered in gum. And he thought it was cool that he had a sense of humor despite how severe he looked. The young wizard began to understand at least a little why his mum might like him. He decided to break the tension.

"Did you come for lunch, Professor?" he asked the wizard.

Severus looked at him soberly.

"Actually, I was . . . notified that the wards had been triggered and why, so I came to be of assistance. I would hate to intrude on family time . . ."

"But if you don't intrude, how are we going to get to know you, Professor?" Hugo asked him earnestly, both Rose and Hermione looking at him a bit shocked at his forwardness.

Severus looked down his nose at the boy.

"Not many people have ever been that interested in 'getting to know' me, Hugo," he replied silkily.

"Well I'm interested since my mum likes you," he responded. "I want to know if you're . . . you're worthy of her."

Worthy of her? Why the bold little scamp.

Hermione turned bright red at this.

"How about I just make lunch?" she said quickly, "Severus, you're welcome to join us. It will only take a few minutes."

Severus looked at Hugo, who met his gaze steadily.

"I believe I will, only if to find out if I am worthy of you, Mrs. Weasley," he replied.

Hugo grinned as Rose scowled. She thought the Professor was quite mean, setting them up like that. She followed Hermione out the door, leaving Hugo and Severus in the exercise room.

"That was nice of you to buy Rod robes, Professor. He's a nice guy, even if he is a Slytherin," the boy said, trying to make conversation.

Severus arched an eyebrow at Hugo.

"Ah, I take it you don't approve of Slytherin house then, Hugo," he said to the young wizard in a low voice, trying to make him feel a bit threatened.

He might have tried threatening a snow bank. Hugo was completely unaffected.

"It's not Slytherin house. It's the Slytherins in it," he replied with a shrug.

"The animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin dates back to the founders themselves, young man," Severus said to him pointedly.

"But it's stupid," Hugo said. "I don't see why we all have to fight with each other. I mean we're all witches and wizards. We go to the same school and take the same classes. It doesn't make sense."

"Not much in life does, Hugo," Severus said to the boy.

Hm. He really didn't seem like a bad sort. He had a bit of his mother's logic as well as both his father's and nother's recklessness. Maybe it would be tempered as he got older.

Hugo began to walk around the exercise room, looking at the machines.

"Do you work out, Professor?" the boy asked him suddenly.

"On occasion," the wizard replied.

"What do you do?" Hugo asked him, pulling on one of the handles. It was set to Severus' preferences and he couldn't budge it.

"You know Hugo, you remind me very much of your mother at your age. She was chock full of questions too . . . annoyingly so," Severus snapped at him.

"Yeah, but you never learn anything if you don't ask questions," Hugo replied, hopping up on the treadmill and starting to walk. "There's nothing wrong with asking about something you want to know."

Hugo looked at the imposing wizard calmly, blue eyes meeting black. He hopped off the treadmill and walked up to Severus, a sober look on his face.

"I'm the only man in my family, Professor. My dad is gone and there's no one else to look out for my sister and my mum but me. I know I'm young, but I have to act older sometimes. I don't do it much, but I know when I should and I think I should do it now so we can understand each other. I know my mum likes you. I don't think Rose does though. Me, I don't really know if I do or not, though I think you're funny," Hugo said earnestly.

Severus simply looked at the boy.

"But I want to try to get to know you and find out if you'll be nice to mum. I mean really nice. You gave her this job and a place to stay and everything but she works for you. You're getting something out of it. It doesn't mean that you are really being nice. Just that you're making money. What I really want to know is if you really like my mum back, or are . . . are taking advantage of her because she's by herself. I know she has to get lonely without dad, and she's not used to being by herself. If you don't like her back, Professor and are just taking advantage of her, I'm not going to like it," Hugo said, his eyes darkening.

Severus blinked at the boy. Would he threaten to duel him?

"I assure you, Hugo, I hold your mother in the highest esteem. She is one of a kind, a brilliant woman and I would never do anything to harm her in any way. Is that answer sufficient, or would you like me to take a Blood Oath?" he asked Hugo snarkily.

Hugo studied him. Then smiled.

"I believe you, Professor. I don't think you're a liar. And like mum told Grandmum, if you just wanted a witch there are plenty out here who would like you because you are a hero. And they are a lot younger and some prettier than mum," Hugo said to him.

Severus nodded at this.

"You may find out, Hugo, if you become one of those rare wizards who look past the surface of a woman, that looks matter very little when you are looking for someone to share your life with. There are other aspects more important. Aspects that make a relationship secure. Looks fade as the years pass, and those other aspects are the glue that will keep a wizard happy for the rest of his days," the wizard said to the boy.

"So, are you saying you want to marry my mum?" Hugo asked him.

Severus went a bit paler at this question, then caught himself.

"I don't know what the future holds, Hugo," he responded, then looked at the boy curiously, "But, a rhetorical question . . . if I did want to marry your mother, would you object to it?"

"I don't know. That's why I need to get to know you," the young wizard replied.

Well, at least the boy didn't say no right off the bat. Severus had a feeling Rose would have a very different response.

"Fair enough, Hugo. Then I imagine we both will have to get to know each other," Severus replied, "I believe lunch should be ready by now. Shall we go?"

Hugo nodded and led the way, Severus following him, his eyes resting on the young wizard thoughtfully.

Not too bad a boy at all.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	74. Rod Comes for a Visit

**Chapter 73 Rod Comes for a Visit**

Severus listened with quite a bit of interest as Hugo recounted Rod's fight with Roland. James had missed the beginning of the fight but Hugo pieced it together from the others who witnessed it. They were eating tomato soup and ham sandwiches, both Hermione and Rose scowling at Hugo's excited description of the brawl.

"And then Rod ducked, and Roland flew over his back and landed face first on the floor. That's why his face was so bruised up," Hugo said excitedly, ducking a little at the table. "And Roland was yelling at Rod to stay still because he couldn't hit him."

Severus nodded. Apparently Rod did exactly what he was instructed to do.

"Then Roland managed to grab him in a bear hug and Rod . . ."

Hugo jerked his head forward hard.

"Rod head-butted him, and they were both hurt by it, but Roland recovered first and almost ran Rod down!" Hugo continued excitedly, "but he jumped out of the way and landed near the armor and then . . . POW! Rod threw the whole suit on top of Roland then jumped on him and beat him up. James had to stop it. Rod was great!"

"You weren't even there, Hugo," Rose snapped at him, "And I think it's barbaric. And as much as I hate to say it, that was a dirty move Rod did to Roland."

Hermione nodded in agreement as Hugo scowled at both of them.

"Roland picked the fight with Rod for no reason and is bigger than him too. Plus, Rod's a Slytherin. Dirty fighting is what they do. Roland probably would have pulverized him if he hadn't slammed him with the armor," Hugo argued.

"Rod wouldn't even have been fighting if Professor Snape hadn't taught him," Rose said, glaring at the dour wizard, who arched an eyebrow at her.

"So, am I to understand you would have preferred Mr. Dormers be left defenseless, Miss Weasley?" he asked the girl silkily, "He had already been attacked by this Roland once. The gauntlet was already cast down and the boy was no match for the Gryffindor as it stood."

"No, I wouldn't have preferred that. But hitting Roland with a suit of armor?" Rose said, frowning. "That hardly seems right to teach someone."

Severus took a bite of his sandwich, chewed it deliberately and chased it with a bit of pumpkin juice before answering the young woman.

"I didn't tell Mr. Dormers to do that, although I imagine he did it to bring the fight to a quick close, which was quite smart of him since the longer it went on, the less his chances were of a positive outcome," the pale wizard said before spooning some soup into his mouth. Then his dark eyes rested on Rose.

"It is easy to see that you abhor violence, Miss Weasley, but a fact of life is that there is violence in the world as both of your parents could have attested to, being that they also worked to end one of the most violent threats to the Wizarding World in history. A wizard must be able to defend himself by any means necessary. Bringing a quick end to altercations is one way of doing this. Mr. Dormers most likely would have preferred not to fight this Roland, but had no choice in the matter and simply acted accordingly. My advice to you, young lady, is to face the facts of the matter and not rely on your emotional responses of what's right and wrong and judge him for it. Nor me. The lines often become blurred, and decidedly so," Severus said to her.

Rose stared at the pale wizard.

"I don't need your advice," she said sullenly.

"Rose!" Hermione cried, aghast at her daughter's rudeness.

Rose looked at her mother and fell silent, lowering her eyes and eating her soup. Hugo looked from Rose to Severus, who said nothing but continued eating.

"I'm sorry for Rose's rudeness, Professor," Hermione said to him, glaring at Rose.

"She was simply stating how she felt. It's fine. There was a time I didn't take advice from those wiser than myself. The ability to accept advice is something that is learned over time and after a number of personal errors," he commented.

"Still it was rude," Hermione said, frowning at her daughter.

An uncomfortable silence fell on the table for several minutes before Hugo piped up.

"I wonder what Rod's doing at the castle?" he said, "I bet he's bored to death. I wish he would have come to the Burrow. He would have had loads of fun."

"Some are quite hesitant to infringe on family occasions," Severus said to Hugo.

"He wouldn't have been infringing. He saved Rose's life. Anyway, he spends every holiday at Hogwarts. It wouldn't have hurt him to leave for once," the boy said a bit angrily.

"I'm sure Rod's fine, Hugo," Hermione said, "He's used to being by himself. He's probably more comfortable that way."

Hugo shrugged.

"Maybe. But I'd still like to see him," Hugo said.

Severus looked thoughtful.

"Mr. Dormers is one of my employees now," he said to Hugo.

Rose looked up at the wizard startled as Hugo looked at him with round eyes.

"Rod has a job?" Hugo asked.

Severus' nostrils flared for a moment. The boy was very much like his mother.

"I just said that," he snapped. "He will be helping me with my fields after he graduates. Perhaps I could save valuable work time if I bring him up now and let him familiarize himself with the layout. Then he could start right in after graduation."

Hugo broke out in a big smile at first, then it faltered.

"I'm not sure that he'll come, Professor," the red-head said to him glumly.

"Oh, he'll come all right, Hugo," the wizard replied, his dark eyes glittering. "It won't be a request."

Hugo smiled at the Professor brightly and finished his food.

Professor Snape was all right.

* * *

Rod was dancing in his room with his wireless headphones on when he had the distinct feeling he was being watched. Slowly he reached in his pocket, withdrew his wand and spun, pointing it at the intruder. 

Professor Snape eyed him calmly as Rod lowered his wand and removed the headphones, wide-eyed.

"P…professor," he spluttered, "Sorry. I didn't know it was you."

Severus arched an eyebrow at the boy. He hadn't even seen him before he drew his wand. That was . . . quite interesting.

"Obviously," he purred at the boy, "Although I am somewhat relieved that what I was witnessing before you drew your wand wasn't a seizure of some type."

Rod gave him an embarrassed smile.

"No sir. I was practicing some new dance moves," he responded, curious now as to why the dark wizard was here.

"I've seen similar moves performed by unfortunate wizards caught in the throes of the Cruciatus curse," Snape replied archly, "Now pack up a few things. You are coming to the worksite to familiarize yourself with the layout of the fields. You will be staying several days."

Rod started to say, "Familiarize myself with the fields?" but something in the Professor's eyes stopped him.

"All right, sir," he responded, "Oh, and thank you for the broom. It's great."

"You're going to need it," Severus said dismissively, "I suggest you bring some . . . entertainment as well. Hugo and Miss Weasley are also on the premises. It's best you have something to occupy your time when you are not with me."

"Hugo and Rose?" Rod said excitedly.

"Yes," Severus responded tiredly, "That's what I said. I will be waiting for you in the Main Hall."

The wizard turned and left with a billow of robes.

Rod blinked after him for a moment, then quickly began to gather items together. He grabbed a collection of disks that Winston had sent him for Christmas. They arrived a few days late, but there were some really cool old songs that he liked and he imagined Rose and Hugo would like too.

Fifteen minutes later he was in the Main Hall, wrapped up in his Weasley hat, scarf, sweater and gloves. Severus looked him up and down.

"I see Molly Weasley has adopted you into the family," he said, eyeing the silver pom-pom on Rod's Slytherin green hat.

"Yes," Rod said, "Everything is really warm."

"You brought your broom?" the wizard asked him.

Rod patted his small bag.

"I have it right here, miniaturized," he replied eagerly.

"All right, Mr. Dormers. Follow me," Severus said, exiting the castle, Rod on his heels. They had gone about thirty feet before the pale wizard grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and disapparated with him.

Ouch.

* * *

They reappeared in front of the work site, Severus releasing the boy and Rod rubbing his neck ruefully. He really needed to make an appointment to take his Apparition test. He looked at the smooth white building. There were no windows and only one door. Severus gestured toward it. 

"Through that door, Mr. Dormers," he said.

Rod walked toward the building and the door opened.

"Mr. Rod Dormers is entering the premises. Authorized," the voice said, Rod looking around to see where it issued from and being pushed by the Potions master who was entering behind him.

"Professor Severus Snape on the premises. Authorized," the voice intoned.

Rod started walking up the corridor when a red-headed blur streaked up the hallway.

"Rod!" Hugo exclaimed happily, "You came!"

Rod smiled as Hugo skidded to a halt in front of him, his chest heaving.

"I really didn't have much of a choice," he said, glancing back at the sober-faced Potions master. Severus furrowed his brow at him.

"Well, you're going to room with me. Mum transfigured my bed into two twin ones. That's all right isn't it?" Hugo asked him.

"It's fine, Hugo," Rod said.

Severus watched as Hugo led Rod down the hall to the apartment.

Rod hesitated when he saw the Professor wasn't following.

"Aren't you coming, Professor?" he asked the wizard, who shook his head.

"No, Mr. Dormers. I will be here bright and early tomorrow morning to retrieve you and take you on a tour. Have your broom ready as it will be an aerial tour," he said.

"Yes sir. I'll be ready," Rod said to him. He was going to thank the Professor for bringing him, but the wizard had already turned and was heading back up the hall.

"Come on, Rod," Hugo called from inside the apartment.

Rod smiled.

"I'm coming, Hugo," he said, entering.

Rose and Hermione were standing side by side, both smiling as Rod entered the apartment. Rose was taller than her mother, but their smiles were similar.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley. Hi Rose," Rod said a bit shyly. Both witches were very pretty, Hermione in an older witch kind of way. Her hair was curlier than Rose's too, and browner. Rose's hair was a deep auburn.

"Hi Rod. Welcome to my home," Hermione said, walking forward and giving the wizard a hug. Rod accepted it stoically.

"Thanks for having me," he replied, looking at Rose, who grinned at him.

"I see Grandmum has struck again," she said, eyeing his clothing.

"Yes. She makes great clothes," Rod said, then hurriedly opened his bag and took out two gifts. He offered the smaller one to Rose.

"Um . . . your Christmas present," he said.

Rose took it and Hugo walked up.

"Is that one mine?" he asked Rod excitedly.

Rod nodded and handed Hugo the other box. He looked at Hermione slightly embarrassed as Rose and Hugo opened their presents.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley," he began, getting ready to explain he didn't have a present for her.

"Oh, that's all right Hugo. I see you liked the jeans," she said, looking at them on the boy's frame.

"Oh yes. They're my favorites. I wear them all the time," he said looking down at them and flexing a leg. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I never got presents before."

Hermione's eyes glistened a little at this.

"I'm sure you'll be getting plenty of them now, Rod," she assured him.

"Oh, look mum! A charm bracelet. It's a little like yours but it goes on my wrist."

She held up a small gold charm bracelet, with one dangling ruby-eyed lion on it.

"Oh, it's lovely, Rod," she said, walking up to him and kissing the wizard on the cheek.

Rod went crimson.

Hermione just wanted to hug him, he looked so cute and out of sorts.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, a bit breathless at having been kissed a third time by the witch. Rose held out her arm.

"Would you put it on for me?" she asked him.

Rod swallowed and took the bracelet from her, carefully putting it on her delicate wrist and clasping it securely. It looked really nice.

"Whoa!" Hugo whooped as he examined his present.

"It's a snitch signed by Rodney Floofellow of the Chudley Cannons! Look mum! Look Rose!" he cried, holding it out for all to see, the signature glowing slightly. "Thanks Rod! This is great!"

Rod smiled at him broadly.

"I'm glad you like it, Hugo," he said.

"I'm going to make a case for it right now," Hugo said, disappearing into his room.

"Why don't you go in and put your things away, Rod. I'm about to make dinner. I hope you like chicken stew," Hermione said to the young wizard, smiling.

"Yes I do. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Rod said, following Hugo.

Rose looked after him.

Hermione walked up to her daughter.

"You like Rod, don't you?" she asked Rose.

"He's a nice wizard, mum. He really is," she said.

Hermione nodded.

"I think so too, Rose," she agreed, wrapping an arm around her daughter's shoulder affectionately.

Both witches then retired to the kitchen to make dinner. There were hungry wizards to feed.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.


	75. Reaching an Understanding

**Chapter 75 Reaching an Understanding**

Hermione and the children had an enjoyable supper together, Rod telling them what he did during the holidays so far and how much fun he had. Everyone was shocked when they found out what Professor Snape's gift was.

"He gave you a broom for Christmas? Wow!" Hugo said, impressed.

Hermione didn't say anything, but she smiled. The Potions master was certainly wracking up the points.

"Yes, a Firebolt. I can't fly as good as you and Rose, but I'm doing all right," Rod said, eating more stew. It was delicious. "I need a lot more practice. I'm going to need the broom so I can reach the higher fields when I start working."

"That's why he bought it for you," Rose said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I guess," Rod said, "But still, it's mine."

Hermione looked at her daughter. Rose didn't seem impressed by Severus' gift to Rod.

"He doesn't seem to do anything unless there's something in it for him," the witch said, her mouth turning down.

"Rose, that's not true!" Hermione exclaimed, "Professor Snape sacrificed a lot for the Wizarding World."

"Yeah. I know. He's a 'hero," Rose said a bit disparagingly, "Let's all bow down and kiss the hem of his robes."

Rod looked at Rose, his brow furrowed. She didn't like Professor Snape. Hugo didn't say anything but continued to eat his stew. Hermione turned crimson.

"Rose! That's a terrible thing to say," she chided her daughter.

Rose pressed her lips together stubbornly and said nothing.

Hermione sighed, not understanding her daughter. If Rose didn't like Severus, why did she tell her to go see him on Christmas night?

Rose finished her stew quickly.

"May I be excused?" she asked her mother.

"Go ahead, Rose," Hermione said to her, frowning.

The witch left the table, went into her room and put on her cloak, hat, scarf and gloves then left the apartment, Rod, Hermione and Hugo looking after her.

Hermione sighed.

"I don't know why Rose is acting the way she is," the witch said.

Hugo looked at his mother.

"I think she's comparing Professor Snape to dad. He's nothing like him," Hugo said.

"No, he's not," Hermione agreed.

Rod took a drink of his pumpkin juice, not wanting to join in this family conversation.'

"She's missing dad, mum. She knows you like Professor Snape and it kind of bothers her. I think she's a lot like Grandmum, though she really wants to see you happy. I know she does," Hugo said encouragingly.

Rod cleared his throat.

"I'm going to go and check on Rose," he said to Hermione, who gave him a sad, little smile.

"Thank you, Rod," she said.

Hugo didn't move. His mum needed support. Rose was acting like a spoiled brat and he was going to tell her so too. Later.

"I'll help you with the dishes, mum," he offered as Rod went and put on his sweater, hat, scarf and gloves then exited the apartment.

"Thank you, Hugo," Hermione said, smiling at him.

* * *

Rod found Rose in the picnic area. A single torchlight illuminated the small area. She was sitting there, staring out into the forest. Rod sat down quietly. Presently she looked at him. 

"Hi Rose," he said, "Are you all right?"

Rose blinked at him, her eyes filling.

"I don't know, Rod," she replied, "I . . . I just don't know what to think about my mum and Professor Snape. He's so . . . so dark. And he controls everything. I don't think my mum sees that. Plus he's mean-spirited. I don't think I want him with my mum."

Rod didn't say anything at first. They sat in silence for a while.

"He kept me from going to Azkaban," the wizard said.

Rose stared at him.

"What? How?" Rose asked Rod, interested.

"I never told anybody about what had happened before I got arrested. I . . . I had summoned Voldemort back from the dead," Rod said to the witch, "Only I didn't know it was Voldemort. He said his name was Tom. He was a ghost. He was the one who taught me the Locomordres spell."

Rose's eyes widened.

"Lord Voldemort? Oh my gods, Rod!" she exclaimed.

"Yes. And if Professor Snape didn't show me who he really was, I would have gone to Azkaban. He came out of hiding for me, Rose," the wizard said, "He had to expose himself to help me. So he isn't all selfish."

Rose scowled.

"I bet he still had a reason for it," she said stubbornly.

"Maybe he did, but I doubt it was entirely a selfish one. He could have remained hidden," Rod said. "And . . . and he showed me what he went through, Rose. It was horrible. He really is a hero, but he wasn't ever treated like one. He doesn't care about that, even if everyone else does."

Rose still looked unconvinced.

"Still, he's a dark wizard, Rod," she said to him.

"So am I," Rod responded. All Slytherins were considered dark by default.

"Not like he is," she said to the wizard. "He's cold, unfriendly and sarcastic. He always sets the wards to trap me and Hugo, and look how he always grabs your neck when you disapparate with him. He could catch your sleeve or something, but he likes to hurt you. How mean is that?"

Rod smirked. He didn't address the ward issue. As far as Rod could see it was Rose's own fault she was continuously getting covered by bubble gum. She should know better by now. Hugo had told him all about it. So he addressed the neck-grabbing instead.

"He's just trying to make me take my Apparition test, Rose. It's just a rough way of getting his point across. It doesn't bother me," he said. "And for as him being the way he is, if you had seen what he's gone through, you'd understand him better. You'd see why he's the way he is."

"Well, I don't know what he went through, and I seriously doubt that even if I did it would excuse the way he acts toward other people," Rose said. "Suppose he starts mistreating mum?"

Rod looked at her consideringly. Despite how threatening the wizard could be, Rod didn't believe the Professor would mistreat anyone beyond telling them off and acting snarky. Most likely, they would deserve it too.

"Rose, can you do Legilimency?" he asked her.

"A little," she said, "if I focus hard."

"Listen, the Professor showed me a Pensieve of what it was like for him as a spy under Voldemort. If you saw my memories, you'd see he really is a good man. You'd know it for certain. Only a good man would go through what he did for the Wizarding World. But, but it isn't pretty, Rose," Rod said, wondering if this were such a good idea.

Rose looked doubtful. She didn't think it would make a difference. But, it wouldn't hurt to take a look.

"All right," she said, drawing her wand.

"Give me a minute," Rod said, pulling up the terrible memories and thinking them over a bit so they would be nice and clear for the witch to access. Rod drew in a breath. "All right, I'm ready."

Rose pointed her wand at Rod, right between his eyes.

"Legilimens!" she cried.

* * *

Rose was in tears by the time she managed to pull out of Rod's memories. The wizard hurriedly ran over to the other side of the table, sat down and let the witch hold on to him, crying into his sweater. 

"How . . . how did he ever survive that?" she gasped, trembling against Rod.

"He was strong. He had a job to do," Rod said, feeling a bit awkward as Rose clung to him. "You see how alone he was, Rose. He had to do everything by himself. Sort of like me, but a million times worse. It makes sense he's not that friendly. No one was friendly to him back then."

"They . . . they tortured him and he wouldn't tell about Uncle Harry," the witch said, "They almost killed him."

"He would have died rather than tell anything," Rod said, "He protected everyone he could, Rose. He can't be all bad. He might be controlling now, but back then he couldn't control anything. Maybe that's why he's the way he is. And still, he isn't bad. He saved Hugo, and saved me. Even gave me a job. Come on, Rose. You have to see he isn't terrible. Just different."

Rose continued to sob for a few more minutes, Rod patting her shoulder awkwardly. Finally she stopped, but her face and eyes were all red and bleary.

"I feel awful," the witch said, "The way I talked to him earlier today, and what I said tonight about kissing his robes because he's a hero."

Rod didn't say anything to comfort Rose concerning what she said at the kitchen table. It had been pretty awful and she should feel bad about it. That was the Slytherin in him. Everyone reaps what they sow. Even witches as pretty as Rose Weasley.

"I think we should go back inside. It's pretty cold out here," Rod suggested to the witch, who nodded. They both rose and walked back toward the site.

"Do you think I'm an awful witch, Rod? For acting like I did?" she asked the wizard.

Ooh. Loaded question.

"Well, it was pretty awful. I think you hurt your mum's feelings but it's not anything that can't be fixed," he said encouragingly. "Everyone deserves a second chance. And I don't think Professor Snape holds anything against you. He's used to people not liking him."

Rose took this in.

"Besides, he has to treat you nice. He likes your mum, remember?" Rod added with a grin. "He won't get too far giving you grief. So don't worry about it Rose. It'll all work out in the end."

Rose found that this actually made her feel a little better. Professor Snape never really treated her badly. She was the one who was acting like a spoiled brat. All she needed to do was be willing to give him a chance, like mum and Hugo.

"Thanks Rod," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

The wizard turned bright red, though Rose couldn't see it because it was dark.

"You're welcome," he said shortly as the door to the site opened, announcing them.

They entered the apartment. Hermione and Hugo had cleared the table and now the witch was reading over some research. She looked up as the pair entered. Her eyes were a bit dark as she looked at Rose.

Rod excused himself and walked into the bedroom, joining Hugo who was playing with his autographed Snitch, letting it loose and chasing it around the room.

Rose looked at her mother.

"Mum, can I sit down?" she asked her mother.

Hermione moved over a bit stiffly and Rose sat down beside her, looking at her hands which she twisted in her lap. Then she looked at her mother.

"Mum. I'm really sorry about what I said to Professor Snape today, and what I said about him tonight," she said softly.

Hermione didn't say anything but continued to look at her research papers. But her eyes weren't moving so Rose could tell she wasn't really reading them.

"I just didn't understand what you see in him. To me, he just seemed like someone everyone just fawned over, because he was a hero. I didn't understand just what that meant. And it's like he uses that as a reason to be cold to people, like, like he's better than them. How he doesn't socialize or laugh . . . well he laughs but at things he shouldn't like me and Hugo covered in bubble gum . . ."

Hermione's mouth quirked a bit.

"And mum, I know you like him, but I couldn't really see him liking anybody. He seemed too selfish. And he seems so dark, like he could hurt you. I'm sorry I felt like that, but he's so different than dad. I know he gave you this job and this place, but that's because you make money for him . . . and I thought you might have started liking him just because you were lonely and he was here. I want you to be happy mum, I just wasn't sure that you could be happy with someone like him. I'm still not sure, really. But that's not a reason for me to mistreat him and act like a spoiled brat. I just want to tell you that I'm sorry and I'm really going to try and get along with him, mum. And I'm sorry for what I said about him being a hero. He really is one. A real one," Rose said to her mother, tears falling from her eyes for acting like such a bitch.

Hermione sighed.

"Why didn't you just tell me how you felt, Rose? I could have told you more about him," Hermione said.

"Because you already liked him, mum. I didn't want to be like Grandmum, but I guess I am kind of. Worse, really, because I held it in," Rose said, her voice quavering.

"Rose, I wasn't wild about Professor Snape when I was your age either, believe me. And your father . . ."

Hermione shook her head.

"He couldn't stand him. Neither could Harry. None of us knew what kind of man he was back then. It was only after Voldemort died we found out the truth about him. He never tried to make anyone think better of him either. He's still that way. But Rose, he's capable of great love. He really is. And he is kind, though he doesn't like to show it and covers it up by pretending he's only doing kindnesses because there is something in it for him. Like tonight. He brought Rod here so you and Hugo could see him, not because of the fields. But he'd rather we believed that rather than he did something nice just to be nice. It's his way. And annoying as it is, I like that about him. It's one of many things I like about him," Hermione said, smiling at her daughter.

"He's certainly good at it," Rose said, scowling slightly.

"He's perfected it for years," Hermione said, shaking her head slightly. "He's really mellowed though. He's not as bad as he was."

"He's not living the kind of life he was," Rose said, "He's free now."

"Yes. And he wants a normal life, Rose. A happier one then he's had. If I can make him happy, I want to," Hermione said to her daughter, "He makes my life happier, despite how dark he is."

"Then that's all that really matters, mum," Rose said to her mother. "Again, I'm sorry. I'm going to apologize to the Professor the next time I see him for what I said at lunch."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that Rose," Hermione said, giving her daughter a hug and a kiss on her cheek.

The air cleared, both mother and daughter sat in companionable silence, Rose retrieving a copy of "Teen Witch" and Hermione returning to her notes.

There was much to be said for communication.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	76. The Apology

**Chapter 76 The Apology**

At eight o'clock in the morning, Severus arrived at the site and let himself in. Rod was awake and waiting, but so was Rose.

"Rod, do you mind if I talk to the Professor before you leave with him?" she asked the Slytherin.

Rod shook his head.

"No," he replied shortly.

He knew Rose was going to try and correct her error from the day before. He never got the exact details of what she said to the Potions Master, but obviously it was something important enough for the witch to get up early and address. At least Rose wasn't a coward.

When Severus knocked, Rose answered the door. Hermione was still asleep.

"Good morning, Miss Weasley. I'm here to retrieve Mr. Dormers," the dark wizard said to the witch, his black eyes washing over her.

"Rod's ready," Rose replied, then took a deep breath. "I wonder if I might speak to you privately, Professor. It's important."

Rod stood behind Rose, completely unsure about how the witch was approaching this. But he promised her he'd wait, so he did.

Severus arched an eyebrow at Rose.

"Certainly. Will the corridor suffice?" he asked her.

"Yes. That'll be fine," Rose replied.

Severus stepped back as Rose entered the hallway and closed the door behind her. She moved down the hall a bit, the wizard following her, his brow furrowed with interest.

Rose stopped and looked at him.

"Professor, I'd like to apologize for the way I spoke to you yesterday at lunch," the witch said to the dour wizard, who arched an eyebrow at her.

"I presume you are referring to telling me you didn't need my advice," he said to the young woman.

Rose nodded.

"Yes," she said shortly.

Severus studied her for a moment.

"So, am I to assume you've decide you do need my advice?" he asked Rose, whose face contorted slightly.

"I was rude," she said, trying to sound apologetic without repeating the offending words.

Severus' dark eyes rested on the daughter of the woman he desired.

"Do you consider what you said as 'rudeness' because of your own perceptions or that of others?" he asked the witch, interested in seeing how she would answer.

Rose hesitated.

"Well, I was being honest," she admitted.

"And are you being honest now, Miss Weasley?" Severus pressed. "You stated you weren't interested in my advice. Has that changed?"

Rose met those dark eyes, and for a moment was willing to lie, but just for a moment.

"No. I still don't want your advice, Professor," she said, trying not to wince as she imagined what her mother's response to this would be.

Severus studied Rose for a moment.

"I'm glad your integrity remains, Miss Weasley," he said to her. "Your response to my statement was straight-forward. What others consider 'rudeness' be damned. You simply stated how you felt without apology. As a Slytherin, I appreciate that. But your being a Gryffindor causes . . . shall we say . . . problems in that respect. Honesty is always misconstrued in some manner by Gryffindors."

Rose bristled a little at this. It was her house the Professor was talking about.

"Slytherins aren't big on honesty at all," she shot back at him.

"We are supremely honest . . . with ourselves. Yet we will manipulate the truth when it suits us or there is some benefit to doing so. Then again, our outlook on life is different, blatant self-interest playing a large part. Anyway, that is neither here nor there. So you are apologizing to me for the way you addressed me, not for what you said," he said by way of clarification.

"I suppose so," Rose replied.

Severus nodded.

"From this point forward, Miss Weasley, I will not offer you advice. I will however share my opinion from time to time, which you are free to rip from end to end whenever you feel the need to do so. I don't curb my words or responses and don't expect you to either. I am not easily hurt and if I take offense, it will be quite clear I have and will react accordingly. Your apology, although personally I feel is unnecessary, is accepted. No more needs to be said about this," he said to the witch.

"Thanks for understanding, Professor," Rose said to the wizard, turning to go back into the apartment.

"Miss Weasley," the Potions master said suddenly.

Rose turned.

"I want you to know that it isn't necessary to 'like' me. I am decidedly unlikable and know it. However, I want to assure you that my interest in your mother is sincere, and she has my utmost respect. I would never purposely mistreat her or allow anyone else to do so. You have my word on this," the Potions master said sincerely.

Rose studied him.

"I'll keep that in mind, Professor," she said shortly, then entered the apartment.

Severus looked after Rose. She was an honest witch. Reactive, like her father, but honest. He could deal with her. Actually, she'd be rather refreshing. He had a feeling there would be quite a few interesting interactions with Miss Rose Weasley in his future. There was nothing like a confrontational teenager to keep the blood flowing.

Rod exited the apartment, Firebolt in hand.

"Good morning, Professor," he said, a bit excited. He was dressed in his Weasley gear and ready to go.

Severus eyed the pom-pom on his hat.

"That pom-pom is ridiculous," he stated flatly, then "Come along, Mr. Dormers and I hope you can keep up without falling off your broom."

Rod hoped so too.

* * *

Rod looked at the Potions master's broom with awe. It was a customized Firebolt, with a gleaming black handle, and pewter bands and stirrups. A silver serpent with green eyes was etched along the broomstick itself, appearing to coil around it. It was cool. Very cool. Severus mounted it, and without a word, zoomed off at a good clip. Startled, Rod hopped on his broom and raced to catch up, wobbling a little. 

Once Severus reached a good altitude he hovered, waiting for Rod to catch up.

"You do know the proper spell to cast to save yourself if you fall, don't you Mr. Dormers?" he asked the wizard.

Actually, Rod did. He'd fallen off a few times at Hogwarts.

"Yes sir," the boy replied, hovering shakily.

Severus shook his head.

"You're going to need much more practice flying. You barely seem able to hold on," the wizard said, frowning.

"I'll be better when I return in the summer," Rod assured him.

"Good," Severus said, "Now follow me, Mr. Dormers."

Severus flew slowly so Rod wouldn't have to struggle too much. He showed him the layout of the fields and told him the names of the plants each one would contain.

"I've found studying the fields from above from time to time to be helpful. If there is any blight, the spread can be observed early from this vantage point and valuable plants saved," he said to the boy, who nodded, hanging on to his every word.

"Before I returned to the public, I had wards that didn't allow broom flight over my property. I used the Locomordres spell to access the higher areas. Although you also know the spell, I think it best you utilize a broom," the Potions master said as they flew toward the cave where he grew his fungi. They landed on the ledge and went inside, Severus lighting his wand brightly. It was winter so there was no growth on the walls. He explained how to care for the fungus and how valuable it was to Rod who listened carefully.

"I will provide you with reading material to study, Mr. Dormers. I don't expect you to absorb everything I tell you," the Potions master said, "But I do expect you to apply yourself and do more than just dig about. Sparse Venues will be experiencing greater growth in the coming years and more than likely I am going to require a team of workers to maintain the fields. If you apply yourself, you will be head supervisor by the time that happens. So you are going to have to develop management skills as well," he said to the boy as they exited the cave.

"Yes sir," Rod said, feeling a little apprehensive about the possible responsibilities looming in his future. "But I'll still be able to work the grounds, won't I?"

Severus looked at the boy. He understood the need to actively get one's hands dirty. Most likely he would be out in the fields as well, when he wasn't overseeing brewing.

"Yes, Mr. Dormers, you will be," he told the boy, who gave a relieved smile. He didn't want to sit behind a desk.

They made a few more rounds of the property then returned to the site. Rod thanked the Professor, who nodded.

"The time spent was a good investment," the wizard said. "Tomorrow we will discuss other matters, Mr. Dormers. You are free for the rest of the day."

Rod went inside, followed by Severus, both announced by the female voice.

Hugo opened the apartment door.

"Have fun flying?" he asked Rod.

"Well, it wasn't meant to be fun, but it was okay," he said to the red-head, who looked at the Professor.

"Hi Professor Snape," Hugo said with a smile. The boy always seemed happy to see him.

"Good morning, Hugo. Is your mother available?" he asked the boy.

"Yes, she's in the kitchen," Hugo said, stepping aside and letting the wizard in.

Rose was sitting on the couch reading a magazine. She looked up at the Professor as he entered then back at the book. He walked by her and into the kitchen. Hermione was at the sink, washing dishes the muggle way. Severus looked behind him and made sure no one was watching, then slunk up behind her, slipping his hands around her waist and pulling the surprised witch back against him, leaning down and purring into her ear.

"Good morning," he said silkily, then kissed Hermione's cheek.

"Severus! The children might see us," Hermione said, blushing furiously as the wizard released her.

"I only kissed you good morning. We weren't copulating, witch," the wizard said, his dark eyes glittering. "Although the idea is quite compelling."

Hermione flushed again.

"Still, I don't think they are ready to see us showing each other affection, if they ever are," Hermione said, straightening her clothing unnecessarily.

"Yes, it will take time. But I am here for a reason other than traumatizing your children," he said to the witch. "I wish to provide dinner tonight."

"Oh, how thoughtful, Severus," Hermione said, beaming at him.

"Well, I have a taste for pizza and I've decided to be magnanimous. Just don't tell the children what we are having. I want it to be a surprise," he said.

Hermione gave him a bright smile and suddenly stood on tiptoe and gave him a kiss.

Severus' brows rose.

"What about the children?" he asked.

"You're bringing pizza. I'm sure they'd understand," she said with a grin.

* * *

When Severus arrived that evening carrying four boxes of pizza, he found the apartment door open and no one inside. Not even Hermione. He walked into the kitchen, put the pizza down on the table and cast a slight warming spell on it, then exited the apartment in search of everyone. They weren't on the grounds. He was always alerted when someone was out and about. 

He checked the exercise room, but they weren't in there. Then he heard was could be construed by some people as music, coming from the Room of Requirement. He walked down the corridor and stood outside the door for a moment, listening.

* * *

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* * *

Severus opened the door and entered, feeling magic wash over him. He stared at the scene before him, his mouth dropping open as he took in the room. It looked like some kind of bar, with three stages and the music was obscenely loud. On the left stage was Hugo, his red hair spiked all over his head, a spiked black collar around his neck, dressed in a white t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, jeans and boots. 

He was playing air guitar, bobbing exaggeratedly as he twanged it with wild circular loops of his arm. On the far left stage were Rod and Rose, dancing, Rod with a bandana tied around his head like a pirate or a biker, in a t-shirt, jeans and trainers and Rose dressed similarly, except she wore a jean vest with flaming skulls on it and her hair was all the colors of the rainbow.

But it was the middle stage that caught his eyes. Hermione was on it, in a short black leather skirt, low cut black tee-shirt, knee high black boots, her hair jet black and standing all over her head, a black collar around her neck and wearing heavy mascara and black lipstick. And she was shaking her galleon-maker. All of them were singing as they danced . . .

"I LOVE ROCK AND ROLL! PUT ANOTHER DIME IN THE JUKEBOX BABY!

Suddenly Hermione saw him and grinned from ear to ear, not stopping her dance as the stunned Potions master looked at her. She was grinning so much he looked down at himself.

Dear Merlin.

He was dressed in black leather pants with a black studded leather belt, a black leather vest wit a black t-shirt with . . . with . . .

Was that a cannabis leaf on his shirt? His hair was drawn back in a ponytail and he wore a kind of silver chain dog collar around his neck.

"What is this?" he roared, looking up at the dancing wizards and witches. However the music was too loud for his roar to be effective, though everyone saw him now and were laughing.

What had happened was the ROR had been set up to dress everyone like rockers when they walked in. Rod had set up his wizarding wireless and let Hugo and Rose hear some of the songs Winston sent him. Then they had the ROR generate the best scenario to listen to the music to. They had been delighted and directed the room to clothe them appropriately and anyone who came in. Then Hugo went and got Hermione, telling her she had to see something in the ROR and when she entered, that's what the room did to her. She was shocked, but loved it and joined the kids dancing.

Now Severus was in the room's clutches.

Hermione danced down off the stage and up to Severus, swirling her hair around her head wildly, then started dancing around him. It was hilarious because the wizard was so stiff. Rose could kind of see why her mum might like him. Simply because he was so reserved and unlikely to do anything he deemed "inappropriate." Which left a lot of room for fun. Well, this certainly fell into that category.

Hermione caught his hands and tried to make Severus dance, but he wouldn't, though he didn't let her go, staring down at her in that make-up, those boots and that tight little skirt. Her curves didn't hurt the effect one bit. If the children weren't here . . . they'd be dancing all right, right against the wall of the ROR.

He'd have to get her alone in here one day in that get-up.

Finally the music stopped, leaving everyone but Severus breathless and laughing. The wizard shook his head.

"That was the most ludicrous display I have ever witnessed," the wizard said, "And I don't appreciate being garbed in . . . in leather, dog collars and cannabis leaves."

Everyone cracked up again as the wizard scowled. Hugo walked up to him.

"You look cool, Professor," he said with a grin.

Severus eyed his spiked hair.

"And you look like you've been hit by lightning. Now come along, all of you. I've brought pizza," he said.

"Pizza?" the kids all cried, running out of the room, their clothes transforming back as they entered the corridor. Hermione tried to follow, but Severus grabbed her.

"Not you. Not yet," he purred, pulling her against his body and kissing her soundly, running a hand up her thigh and under that skirt. When he pulled away, he had black lipstick on his mouth. It tasted like cherries.

"You're going to wear this for me one night, witch," he breathed at Hermione, who was a bit breathless herself. "You taunted me when I could do nothing about it. Next time, there will be a different ending."

The growl in the wizard's voice sent little thrills through Hermione's body.

"Promises, promises," she said lightly, pulling away from him and exiting the room, knowing that would make the wizard even more determined. This was a dangerous thing to do, but it titillated her. She changed back into her normal self as she exited the room, Severus swooping behind her, transforming back into his billowing black robes. He caught up.

"Flippancy isn't wise, Hermione. You are a tease," he said to her as they walked.

"All witches are," she replied with a wicked grin.

The kids were all seated at the table, stretching cheese from their slices.

"Thanks Professor," Hugo said as he chewed.

Rose and Rod thanked him too.

Hermione offered Severus a slice. He shook his head.

"That is for those too young to have developed a discerning palate. Saucy, cheesy, stringy. I prefer this," he said, opening another box.

Inside was a pizza topped with feta cheese, spinach and artichokes.

Rose made a face.

"That's not a proper pizza," she said. "Spinach? Ew."

Severus arched an eyebrow at her as he took a slice.

"As I said, for the 'discerning palate,'" he reiterated, taking a large bite of the pizza and chewing blissfully.

"Ew," Rose also reiterated, then blissfully bit into her own slice.

Now this was a proper pizza.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	77. Severus Learns a Secret

**Chapter 77 Severus Learns a Secret**

The kids spent a fun week at the site before returning to Hogwarts. Rod practiced his flying with Rose and Hugo and improved somewhat after frightening Rose to death by falling off his broom after a mid-air collision with her brother, both she and Hugo streaking after him. Fortunately, Rod did know the spell to avoid impact and stopped falling a mere foot off the ground.

He and Rose also took a nighttime flight together the night before Rod was to leave, when the full moon looked close enough to touch, Hugo and Hermione watching them with smiles on their faces from the door of the worksite. Hugo was invited to fly with them, but declined. The Gryffindor wanted them to have some "alone time."

It wasn't the most romantic flight, with Rod shaking all over the place. He might be a natural dancer, but flying was work. Rose slowly led him about, their silhouettes visible on the face of the moon.

"I really enjoyed having you here, Rod," Rose said to him as they slowly flew side by side, "It was fun."

"Yeah, it really was," he agreed, concentrating.

Rose fell silent. She didn't know what to say to the wizard. Even a troll could see that she liked him, but it seemed Rod, although not oblivious to the possibility, wasn't willing or was too shy to ask her to go out with him. The Valentine Dance was coming up, and Rose Weasley couldn't imagine going to it with anyone other than Rod. He had inadvertently stolen her heart.

Rose was used to more aggressive wizards. She'd been asked out dozens of times by a number of students from different houses. She had never had a boyfriend for more than a month however. Schoolwork and her own personality often got in the way. Rose hated being smothered and in the beginning of every new relationship, there was usually quite a bit of it. She didn't believe Rod would hover around her every minute of the day. He liked his alone time as well. Besides, Rod was the kind of wizard who wasn't the least bit intrusive, even if he were there. He wasn't overly talkative, and when he did talk, it was never about himself, which was another thing Rose couldn't stand, wizards trying to impress her with stories about how great they were.

Rod did like Rose, but didn't have the nerve to tell her, much less ask her out. Things had improved a lot for him, but essentially he still was the loner and the outcast inside. The one everyone looked down on. Oh, he knew if he worked hard he would eventually accomplish something meaningful and worthwhile in his life, but again, it would be because he worked at it, not because it was handed to him. But right now, he didn't think he was good enough for Rose Weasley. So he did nothing but be her friend.

"I wonder why Rod won't ask Rose out, mum?" Hugo said to his mother as he watched his sister and Rod fly in slow, lazy circles in the moonlight. "It's easy to see she likes him."

Hermione watched the young couple for a moment.

"I think he's too shy, Hugo. A lot has changed for him in a little bit of time and that can be overwhelming, especially when you're used to nothing going right and maybe feel a bit undeserving of happiness. Rod has to find his comfort zone. When he does that, maybe he'll be interested in pursuing other things, like witches," Hermione said to her son.

"He doesn't even seem like a Slytherin, mum. Not the kind I'm used to," the young wizard observed.

"Not all Slytherins are going to be the same, Hugo. Rod's proof of that. But he wouldn't have been sorted into the house if he didn't have the tendencies," Hermione assured him.

"I wish he was in Gryffindor," Hugo said wistfully.

Hermione smiled at her son.

"You really like Rod, don't you?" she asked him, thinking back in her day, friendship with a Slytherin would have been frowned upon.

Look at her now. She was sleeping with one.

"Yeah, I do mum. He's one of the coolest wizards I know," Hugo responded.

Hermione studied her son for a moment, then got up the nerve to ask the next question.

"What do you think about the Professor?" she asked him.

"He's okay," Hugo replied, "Now he acts like a Slytherin. Looks like one too."

Hermione laughed. Severus did have a rather sinister look about him even in the best light. It was easy to imagine him lurking in the shadows someplace, rubbing his palms together while wickedly planning the demise of all who opposed him.

"Yes, but he's a good man, Hugo," she said to him, smiling to herself at the ridiculous image of the Potions master in her mind.

"I know. He is mum," the boy replied. "And he really likes you. I think he wouldn't treat us so nice if it wasn't for you though."

Hermione scowled as she thought about what Hugo probably considered "nice." Hermione had been in the kitchen preparing dinner when she heard uproarious laughter coming from the living room. Severus was in there with Hugo, Rose and Rod. She peeked out and found the three young people gathered around the coffee table with their fingers stuck in a small Pensive, while Severus sat on the sofa with a little smirk on his pale face.

She walked in and looked at the frozen children, then at Severus.

"What are they viewing?" Hermione asked him.

"A collage of sorts. Hogwarts history," he replied, looking innocent. Well, as innocent as it was possible for Severus Snape to look, which made Hermione instantly suspicious. Hugo broke out in wild laughter and both Rod and Rose grinned.

"What kind of history are they watching?" Hermione asked him.

"Actually my early memories of you at Hogwarts," he replied.

Hermione scowled. She could only imagine what he'd put in there. Presently the kids came out of the Pensieve, laughing. Rod was the first one to see Hermione and sobered quickly.

"Hi Mrs. Weasley," he said loudly to alert Hugo and Rose their mother was present.

Rose looked up at her mum, her mouth forming an "O" before she too sobered.

Hugo however laughed even more, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked at his mum.

"Wow, mum. You were such a know-it-all. How did anybody stand you?" he asked her, "And you turned yourself into a cat?"

He started laughing again, Rose and Rod doing their best not to join in and garner Hermione's wrath.

"Give me that Pensieve," Hermione said, snatching it off the table, walking over to an armchair and sitting down in it, sticking her finger into the swirling silver liquid. She fell still.

Rose, Rod and Hugo looked at Professor Snape.

"You might want to be gone when she comes out, Professor," Hugo said with a wicked grin.

Severus arched an eyebrow at him.

"I can handle it, Hugo. Believe me. She's roared at me more than once. I find it entertaining," he said calmly, his black eyes shifting toward the witch, who was frowning now.

Rod quickly found a reason to leave the apartment, followed by Rose. Hugo stayed however. He wanted to see the fireworks.

Hermione came out of the Pensieve, looking at Severus with narrowed eyes.

"I bet you thought that was pretty funny, didn't you Severus?" she asked him softly.

"The children certainly found it amusing," he replied, just as softly.

Hermione's amber eyes shifted to Hugo, who had a grin on . . . waiting.

Severus had put in a horde of memories with Hermione walking around Hogwarts with her hair looking like a bottle brush, carrying loads of books, jumping up and down in class trying to answer every question, storming out of rooms, yelling at Ron and Harry and lying in the infirmary in cat-creature form. He had also added when Draco made her two front teeth grow to enormous size and how she looked when she was studying something to the exclusion of all else, Ron casting freshening charms on her.

"Well," she said, pulling out her wand and removing the contents of the Pensieve, "I have one memory that the children will find interesting. It's about you."

Both of Severus' eyebrows rose at this.

"Well, if it is a memory of me being less than doting, I'm sure it will be of no surprise to them," he responded.

"Oh no. In this memory, you're dancing," Hermione said.

Hugo and Severus both looked startled.

"Dancing?" he said with a glower, "That is, no doubt, a falsified memory."

Hermione gave him a wicked grin as she removed a silver memory thread from her head with the tip of the wand and lowered it into the Pensieve. She stood up and set it on the coffee table in front of him with a victorious smile.

"Take a look," she said to the dark wizard, who scowled at her and leaned forward, placing a finger into the bowl. Hugo joined him.

This sounded like it was going to be good.

* * *

Hermione was very young . . . a first year at a Quidditch match, looking through binoculars across the stadium. She was looking at Professor Snape. He was younger but looked much like he did now. Ron was sitting next to her, looking worried as Harry held on to his bucking broom for dear life.

"_What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray-faced._

_"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape -- look."_

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

_"He's doing something -- jinxing the broom," said Hermione._

_"What should we do?"_

_"Leave it to me."_

Severus watched as the little bushy-haired witch raced along the row behind him, knocking Professor Quirrel headfirst into the row in front. She crouched down, pulled out her wand and pointed it at the hem of his robes, igniting them with a blue flame. About thirty seconds later the wizard was indeed dancing, as well as yelping. Hermione quickly scooped the flames into a little jar in her pocket and took off.

* * *

Hugo came out of the Pensieve first, delighted.

"Mum! You set Professor Snape on fire? Oh wow!" he laughed as Severus scowled at her blackly.

"It was you!" he hissed at her, "Why you little . . . pyromaniac! I never did find out how the hell I caught fire!"

Hermione gave him a self-satisfied little smirk as Hugo cracked up.

"Yes, it was me," she gloated, "But I did feel bad when I found out it was Quirrel and not you who tried to kill Harry. But now, I'm glad again. Imagine, showing my children those memories about me."

"Not one of those memories showed anything untoward. Yours, on the other hand, shows you attempting to roast me alive," he seethed at her. "You would have been expelled for that!"

"But I wasn't, was I?" she said smugly, "I got away with it."

Severus' eyes glinted.

"You think so, do you?" he growled at her.

"You can't deduct points from me now, Severus," the witch said, sticking her tongue out at him, which only served to make him madder. But he got control of himself. Severus had a real thing about getting people back who'd wronged him, even if it happened decades ago. Maybe Hermione would have done better to keep this little tidbit to herself. But the doxy was out of the cage now.

"No, I can't," he said silkily, "But there are other ways to repay you . . ."

"Whatever Severus," Hermione said dismissively, scourgifying the Pensieve and returning to the kitchen, feeling vindicated.

Severus arched an eyebrow at the departing witch and said no more about the incident.

But it wasn't over. Oh no.

* * *

Severus returned the children to Hogwarts, Hermione kissing and hugging Hugo, Rose and then a rather surprised Rod, who flushed furiously.

"Now study hard, and we'll see you this summer," Hermione said to them fondly as Severus looked at them soberly.

"I expect to see your flying skills vastly improved by then," he said to the young wizard imperiously.

"Yes sir. They will be," Rod replied.

"Me and Rose will work with him, Professor. Don't worry," Hugo said to the dark wizard.

Severus nodded.

Both witch and wizard watched as the three young people walked toward Hogwarts, disappearing over a rise. Severus turned to Hermione.

"You've already missed an hour of work," he snarked at her.

She was back on the clock.

Hermione sighed.

Severus was clearly back in form.

* * *

A/N: Some of the dialogue and descriptions in this chapter were taken verbatim from the first HP book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Thanks for reading. 


	78. Severus Wants to Play

**Chapter 78 Severus Wants to Play**

After Hermione entered the worksite in a huff, Severus hurried back to his labs, immediately heading for his library. After a bit of searching, he located the book he was looking for, a very old tome, yellowed with age. Carefully, he leafed through the brittle pages, searching for a particular potion . . .

Ah yes. There it was.

He looked at the list of ingredients. Hm. He was going to have to double check the terminology. Some items were not familiar and were probably listed under a different name. At least the brewing instructions were clear. It would take about a month for the brew to be completed.

Well, he was a patient man. A month was perfect. It gave him enough time to work out the details of his dastardly plan. He couldn't deduct points, eh?

This would be much better than a mere point loss and a hundred times more satisfying. It wasn't really about a thirty-year grudge. It was more about Hermione having a one-up on him. Out of the golden trio, Hermione was the one he thought the most innocent, a follower in a way and never one to initiate trouble or rule-breaking. Her little fire-starting incident made him realize he might have been a bit naïve concerning the witch.

The wizard's brows drew together. No, there was no 'might' in it. She had fooled him. Completely. Hermione Weasley had never been a goody-two-shoes. And he had never caught on.

Hm.

What other little offenses concerning him had she gotten away with while at Hogwarts?

He'd really like to know.

* * *

Severus had enjoyed being able to see Hermione's mothering skills during Hugo, Rose's and Rod's stay at the site. Not only was she a good mother, but a compassionate woman, giving Rod as much attention as her own children. No doubt she would have shown him just as much affection if he had been more receptive.

Although Severus was not a demonstrative man in most cases, he did appreciate Hermione's kind character. It offset his own cold, reserved demeanor, and she was very affectionate toward him as well . . . and not only in the physical sense. He could hear it in her voice when she spoke to him and see her fondness in her eyes when she looked at him. It was all new to him and so very precious.

Of course, he did his best to hide his appreciation for the most part, revealing it only when they were in intimate situations, when the witch was in his arms. His kisses and caresses said what words could not. But, they had not engaged sexually since Christmas.

There were many opportunities however, and Hermione wondered to herself why the wizard didn't take advantage of them. Hermione wasn't really big on initiating sex. She did Christmas night, but that was because she was ready and knew Severus wouldn't have made the first move, though he was all for it. But since they now knew each other intimately, she left it to him . . . and he simply left her breathless.

"It is time for me to go, witch," Severus would breathe down at her, then give her one more delicious kiss and caress, then depart for his lonely bed.

In fact, Hermione was starting to want a dose of "Severus PM" to help her sleep quite badly. She had no idea how much deflating draught the wizard consumed some nights, tossing and turning, longing for her softness, her surrender, wanting to lose himself in everything she was.

Yet, it was all part of the Potions master's dastardly master plan. The special potion he was working on was almost complete. He had two days left and had been taunting poor Hermione with his closeness and kisses for almost a month now.

She was ready to climb the walls and had masturbated on several occasions.

"Gods damn it. I'm going to have to tie him up and ravish him if this keeps up," she seethed one night after he departed.

That would have been the only way to get to the determined wizard. He kept his desire on a short leash though they both were suffering. But, when the time did come, Hermione had just a bit more suffering to do than he did. It wouldn't be painful in the bodily sense . . . well not "screaming for mercy" kind of painful . . . maybe.

It would depend entirely on what Hermione's idea of pain was.

* * *

Severus made his move after the potion had been completed and bottled. It was a Thursday night. He visited Hermione in her apartment and once again they had quite a heated snogging session, the witch rubbing her body against him like a cat. The Potions master was hard put not to "pet the kitty" as it were.

The couple was on the sofa, the wizard nearly on top of Hermione, when he broke their kiss and sat up, Hermione staring up at him with hungry eyes. Severus looked down at her.

"It's been quite a while for us, hasn't it witch?" he asked her, his eyes heated.

Finally.

"I think maybe a bit too long," Hermione breathed back at him.

Severus felt a powerful pulse and began to harden.

"Control," he told himself, then, "I . . . I want to ask you something. It is rather personal but it has been on my mind for weeks."

Hermione sat up now.

"What is it, Severus?" she asked him.

The wizard drew in a little breath.

"I was wondering, Hermione, if you . . . if you ever played any 'games?'" he asked her.

Hermione's brow furrowed.

"Games?" she repeated.

Severus was too focused to let her response get to him.

"Intimate games," he clarified, looking at the witch hungrily.

"Oh," she said, flushing a little.

She and Ron had done some role-play and experimented with bondage from time to time.

"Well, yes. I have," she said, slightly embarrassed but a bit turned on. What would the Potions master like to do?

"What kind of games did you play?" Severus pressed her.

"It's going to sound silly," Hermione said, flushing again.

"Tell me," he breathed.

Hermione started twisting her hands a bit.

"Well, Ron liked to pretend he was the captain of the Chudley Cannons, and he had just made the winning goal for the World Cup . . . and I, I was his groupie," Hermione said.

Both of Severus' brows rose.

"His groupie?" the wizard asked, breaking his own rule in his interest.

Hermione nodded.

"Yes. We'd pretend I'd come to his room to . . . well you know. Do what groupies do," she said, her voice a bit high.

"And what do groupies do?" Severus purred at her, intrigued now.

"Pretty much anything that the person they are groupies for wants," she replied.

Severus swallowed as he looked at her. He had never been in the position to play any 'games' and there were a few things he'd like Hermione to do to him. Yet, he really didn't know how to approach her concerning his desires. She was not a paid prostitute after all, and he wasn't sure how she would take a request for a blow job. She might get offended and he didn't want that. But she said she would do anything Ron wanted. More than likely she had performed fellatio on occasion. So he was rather hopeful.

"That sounds quite . . . interesting," Severus said to her. "Do you think you would like to engage in a game with me?"

Hermione felt a little pulse of heat as she looked into those dark eyes.

"It depends. What would you want me to do?" she asked him.

"That is the fun of this game I have in mind. You won't know until I actually begin it. It would be a surprise," he replied, running one pale finger down her arm. Hermione shuddered, but maintained her wits. Lust couldn't override reason.

"I don't know, Severus," she said doubtfully.

The Potions master grasped her hand and kissed her fingertips slowly and teasingly.

"I promise that I will not cause you any physical pain. That's not my way, Hermione. It will be very pleasant for you. All I want is your honest responses . . . that's it," he said to her silkily, "No ropes or whips or chains. No abuse. It will just be . . . different."

"If I decide it becomes too much, could we stop?" she asked him.

The wizard nodded.

"Certainly. I would not have you do anything you weren't comfortable with," he breathed at her, kissing her palm, which was an erogenous zone for the witch. "All I need you to do, Hermione, is be willing to trust me."

Hermione had all but forgotten about his reaction to discovering she had set his robes on fire years ago. She had also forgotten how smug she was about getting away with it. Her smugness was what affected the Potions master the most. Gloating was bad form under any circumstances.

Still, Hermione was intrigued by the wizard. He had said they could stop whenever she requested if she didn't like the game. She would have all the control of the situation, or so she thought.

"All right. I'm willing to play your game, Severus," she said.

"Excellent," the wizard purred, "Now, there will be some . . . tools."

"Sex toys?" Hermione asked him, her mouth turning down. She was never big on toys.

"No. I don't do 'toys.' You are far too delectable to waste on an object that feels nothing," he said to her. "Your charms are for me and me alone. I am jealous even of insensate items when it comes to you, witch. I am thinking more of oils or even potions that enhance sensation."

Hermione gave him a naughty little smile. She had done enhancement oils before. They were quite fun and made sex even better.

"That doesn't sound too bad," she said.

"It won't be," Severus replied, "Although I wish to be a bit clandestine in my application of it. I'd like to catch you by surprise . . ."

Hermione didn't think he'd be able to do that, particularly since he'd told her what he planned. But he could try.

"All right, Severus," she agreed, and he kissed her to seal the deal.

"We will indulge ourselves tomorrow evening after our workout," the wizard said, his eyes sober. "Look forward to a night of heightened pleasure, witch."

Severus rose, Hermione looking up at him. Tomorrow? Drat. Well, she'd gone this long. One more day wouldn't kill her.

She walked him to the door.

"Good night, Severus," she breathed.

Severus' dark eyes glittered at her for a moment before the dark wizard leaned in and gave her one more sensuous kiss that left the witch leaning toward him longingly.

"Tomorrow will be the good night, witch," he replied.

* * *

Hermione could hardly concentrate on her work the next day and the hours seemed to drag by. Finally the workday ended and she hurried to the exercise room where Severus was already on the treadmill, waiting. They had begun a rather challenging regime where Hermione had to keep up with him, or at least try to. The customary towels rested on the handlebars and two bottles of cold water rested nearby.

"Ready to workout, witch?" Severus asked her.

"Yes," Hermione said, trying to focus on what was happening now and not what would be happening later.

"I hope you can keep up," the Potions master said, walking at a good clip.

Hermione did her best to keep up with Severus, but he seemed quite driven, his long legs moving quickly. Soon, Hermione was perspiring. She uncapped her bottle of water and drank half of it down.

She didn't notice Severus was watching her intently, a small smirk on his face.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	79. The Potion's Out of the Bag

**Chapter 79 The Potion's Out the Bag**

They continued about fifteen more minutes, Hermione finishing her water and Severus drinking his as well. The wizard stopped walking and wiped his face with his towel. He looked at the witch.

"I believe we've done enough for this evening. I don't want you exhausted," he purred at her. "Now I am going to retire to my home to prepare for your visit. Eli will retrieve you when you are ready."

The wizard stepped off the treadmill.

"I will see you shortly," he said, leaving the exercise room without giving her as much as a kiss.

Hermione frowned after him. At least he could have kissed her good-bye. Perhaps he was saving his kisses for when they were in a more intimate situation. The witch shrugged, then went to her apartment to prepare for their night.

As she showered, she wondered when Severus would try to "surprise" her with a potion, if he did at all. It wouldn't be an easy task.

Hermione's mistake was she believed the game would begin after the workout, so didn't even imagine the wizard would slip the potion into her water. Yet, there seemed to be no effects so she was none the wiser.

After consideration, Hermione transfigured a short white nightie into a green one. She did the same thing to a pair of silk knickers. At first she wasn't going to wear any, but decided a bit of modesty couldn't hurt. She buttoned her robes over her clothing, then summoned Eli.

* * *

Hermione was delivered directly to the dining room where the Potions master waited at the dining room table. He rose and pulled out her chair for her. Hermione sat down, eyeing him. He had on black silk pajamas and black slippers, his hair back in a ponytail. His black eyes glittered at her as he took his seat.

"I thought a small meal to start our evening would be in order," he purred at her.

Eli appeared carrying two entrees of tender chicken breasts smothered in a light sauce of smoky roasted red peppers and basil. The breasts were served on a bed of egg noodles. It looked and smelled delicious. Severus poured Hermione a glass of full-bodied Pinot Blanc, which she looked at quite suspiciously. He handed it to her rather gingerly, not coming in contact with the witch. He then poured his own and lifted his glass, toasting the witch before he took a healthy sip.

"Did you add anything to the wine?" she asked him.

"No, I did not," he responded.

Hermione believed Severus would have told her if she asked him directly. She took a sip of the wine and found it excellent. She cut a bit of chicken and ate it with a forkful of egg noodles. It was delicious.

"You know, it's going to be difficult to give me a potion without my knowing it, Severus," Hermione said as she cut a bit more chicken.

"I've already considered that, Hermione, which is why I have already given it to you," he replied, sipping a bit more wine and giving her a slight smirk.

Hermione stared at him.

"What? How?" she asked, looking about suspiciously, "Was it a draught I inhaled somehow?"

"No. Nothing as clandestine as that, witch. I simply put it in your water," he said, cutting his chicken.

"In my water? That I drink while working out? That's not creative at all!" Hermione exclaimed, "Besides, you said our evening wouldn't start until after the workout!"

"Technically, the evening hasn't yet started," he replied, "You have only been 'prepared' for it. As to my being creative, you would have been on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. To add it to your water was the simplest method of getting you to imbibe the elixir."

Hermione stared at him. She sat very still for a moment, but felt nothing different. Was Severus playing some sort of mind game?

"I think you're trying to put me off guard," Hermione declared.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

"I assure you, I am not. You have indeed been slipped the potion required for our game tonight, and it is in effect," he purred at her as he finished his noodles.

"What did you give me?" she asked him curiously. "I don't feel anything."

Severus studied her for a moment, then finished his wine . . . taking his time as Hermione watched him, scowling slightly.

"You've heard of the 'Dulcis Tactus" elixir I presume," he said to the witch, his face sober.

"Yes. The 'Sweet Touch' potion that enhances the feel of anything touching your skin," she said to him. "It's a very old brew."

Severus nodded.

"Well, I gave you a somewhat updated version," the wizard said, sitting back now, his eyes sweeping over her.

"If you had given me that potion, Severus, I would have known. Everything that touched me would have felt . . . wonderful. The shower alone would have sent me into throes of pleasure . . . the feel of silk against my skin. Even a slight breeze would affect me. Everything is supposed to be amplified," she said to him.

The wizard's lip quirked slightly.

"As I said, witch . . . it's been updated," he said silkily.

"I think you failed," she said shortly. "I don't feel any different."

The Potions master scowled slightly at the witch. He was very gifted at Potions and had been successfully altering and improving them for years.

"Really?" he purred, noting her empty wine glass. "Pass me your glass so I can refill it."

Hermione did so, and the wizard brushed his fingers against hers as he took it. Hermione suddenly gasped as waves of pleasure fanned out from the tips of her fingers and up her arm. It was a kind of delicious, sensual tickle that washed over her body and seemed to settle directly at her core. She squirmed a little.

"Oh my gods," she breathed at the wizard, whose eyes were narrowed now.

"As I said. Updated," he reiterated.

Hermione stared at him. Severus had enhanced her body so his touch would be extremely pleasurable. Even more, it seemed it enhanced desire as well. Merlin.

"It's . . . it's like you've given me a lust potion," she said to him.

He shook his head.

"No. All responses are from you, not the elixir itself. Your desire for me is honest . . . just enhanced. If you were not attracted to me, you would not be affected in such a manner, only feel the pleasurable sensations . . . and they would be slight," he replied, "Now as to my purpose for this 'game.' As a Slytherin, I have a basic philosophy that every action has a reaction, or in layman's terms, what goes around comes around. You set fire to me in your first year. I realize it was to save Mr. Potter, which is commendable, but I was not responsible for his situation."

Hermione frowned at him.

"You have to be kidding me, Severus. That was over thirty years ago. Don't tell me you want to take revenge against what a first-year did. That's ludicrous," the witch said.

Severus nodded.

"Yes, it is. That is why I am not focused on 'revenge.' Only on 'evening the score.' Balancing it out. In short, Hermione . . . I only want 'burn for burn.' You set me aflame . . . it is only fair that I do the same to you," he said, "Only my burn will not be nearly as dangerous or painful as yours was. Of course, you still have the right to end the game, right now if you wish. But that will mean that we don't engage at all tonight."

Hermione colored.

"Why you scheming bastard," she hissed at him.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

"I did have both a mother and father who were properly married, you know," he responded.

"You know what I mean!" Hermione seethed. "This is . . . is just wicked! You've manipulated me!"

He nodded.

"Indeed I have. But is it really a surprise? I am a Slytherin after all," he said rising and walking around the table towards her, "Still, you can end the night and wait to engage me after the potion has worn off . . ."

Severus walked behind Hermione's chair and gently began to massage her shoulders, the witch gasping at the feel of his hands through the fabric. He leaned forward, his warm breath a gentle, delicious caress on the shell of her ear.

"Just tell me you want to go, Hermione, and Eli will return you to the site," he breathed. "Do you want to end the game before it begins?"

His pale hands slid to her throat, leaving a trail of fire where they touched, warm, firm and promising against her skin.

"No," Hermione whispered, her eyes closed in pleasure. "No, I don't want to end it."

The wizard chuckled.

"I didn't think you would," he purred, pressing his lips to the pulse of her neck and feeling her tremble powerfully.

Tonight would be . . . interesting.

* * *

A/N: Severus! You sneaky Slytherin! Burn for burn:::shakes head::: Hermione's in for it. Burn, baby, burn:::g::: Thanks for reading. 


	80. Hermione Turns Up the Heat

**_WARNING: This chapter contains graphic sexual content concerning fellatio. Those who find such scenarios unsavory are advised to pass on this chapter completely._**

* * *

**Chapter 80 Hermione Turns Up the Heat**

Severus caught Hermione by the hand, the witch biting her lower lip at this simplest touch, her eyes liquid as she looked up at the wizard. The Potions master drew her up out of the chair and into his embrace. Hermione groaned as she came into contact with him, the heat of his body seeming to sink inside her. The wizard's shirt was open and he gasped as she pressed her lips to his chest, then licked it, tasting his skin.

"Dear gods," he murmured as Hermione began kissing his torso in earnest, the wizard closing his eyes and shuddering slightly as her soft mouth moved over his flesh. Hermione felt him shudder and looked up at him.

"You didn't think about all the aspects to making me 'burn,' Severus," she said, her voice husky. He opened his eyes and looked down at her in askance. Hermione gave him a wicked smile.

"An unchecked flame ignites everything in the vicinity," she breathed, falling back to his chest, her hands slipping under his shirt and moving to the wizard's back, caressing him.

"That includes you," she mumbled against his skin. Gods he tasted so good.

"I didn't think about that," he replied, his eyelids fluttering as she suckled his nipple, her hands slipping to the small of his back.

Indeed, he did feel a burn of his own, an increasing burn as the witch took the initiative. Last time they engaged, it was he who dominated the situation, with Hermione on the receiving end completely. This time . . . it was different. He let out another gasp as the witch ran her hands down the front of his thighs, around the large bulge that heralded his arousal.

"I can deal with this kind of ignition," he said, his voice wavering as Hermione ran her hands up his chest, then around his neck, pulling him down into a hungry kiss.

Severus wrapped his arms around the witch tightly as she plundered his mouth, her hot little tongue scouring it as if she were starving. Severus pressed his erection into her belly almost helplessly, his body having a mind of its own.

Suddenly, Hermione pushed away from him. The witch's face was flushed and her eyes half-lidded.

"The bedroom," she said softly, taking his hand and leading him down the hallway.

This was a surprising development. He expected Hermione to be randy for him, or randier rather, but believed that she would be . . . well . . . begging for his touch. He had intended on tormenting her a bit. But it was clear that she wasn't going to wait for him or allow him to withhold anything. This was the first time he had tangled with an aggressive witch. He liked it.

Very much.

Hermione led him into the bedroom, then released his hand, turning to face the wizard. She slipped out of her slippers and began to slowly unbutton her robes, her eyes on his face, watching Severus as he watched her. His jaw was tight as she revealed more and more of what was beneath it. Finally she slipped it off, letting the robe fall to the floor revealing her Slytherin green nightie. The wizard could see the peaks of her hardened nipples through the soft fabric which fell softly over her curves. His nostrils flared as he scented her arousal.

"Touch me, Severus," Hermione breathed, moving into him, her hands sliding over his shoulders and slipping the shirt from them.

Severus tried to stick to his plan but her mouth found his chest again, and the wizard was lost to the witch's desire. He wanted to do whatever she asked of him. Hermione wanted him and he couldn't deny her, not even for the sake of a bit of revenge. He was too susceptible. This was all too new. His resistance to the witch in this situation was virtually nil. He slipped his arms out of his shirt then slid his hands slowly over her shoulders and down Hermione's back, then over the swell of her buttocks, closing his eyes and allowing himself to revel in her soft mouth, in her need, in her passion. He continued to pet Hermione, her breathing becoming harsher and her kisses more consuming, actually suckling and nibbling on the wizard's flesh, Severus groaning with pleasure.

Suddenly, Hermione began to move down his abdomen, her breasts rubbing over the wizard's erection. Severus let out a feral growl and his hand automatically went to the witch's soft hair. Merlin, what was she doing to him?

Hermione truly was aflame. This time their encounter would not be so one-sided. She knew how to give pleasure too and it was time the wizard knew that.

"Hermione," Severus gasped as she lowered herself, tonguing the wizard's navel, and he jerked in response. No witch had ever taken this kind of interest in his body and it was a mixture of heaven and torment. "What are you doing?"

Hermione looked up at him wickedly, their eyes meeting. In situations like this with Ron, Hermione found that talking dirty was a turn-on for her husband. How would Severus react to it? Well, she'd find out.

"I'm going to suck your cock, Severus," she purred up at him, smirking at the shock in the wizard's eyes.

The Potions master's mouth worked a bit as if he were trying to find something to say to this, but the words wouldn't come as Hermione hooked her hands into his waistband and drew his pajama bottoms down around his thighs, his erection springing out.

"Circe," he breathed, unable to move, mesmerized by the crouching witch staring at his swollen member.

Hermione gently grasped it by the base, her fingers unable to touch because of its girth. Severus let out a choked sound as he felt her warm hand close over him, watched her grasp him and gently slide back his foreskin, revealing the sensitive shaft and head, full of blood and rigid as stone. He felt a tightness in his loins just looking at her.

A thrill went through the witch as she grasped Severus' thick cock. It was hard, but so delicate. She looked up at him and he looked so vulnerable and helpless, his bottom lip slack, his eyes hungry yet pleading.

Yep. Grab a man by his goods and he was hooked.

Severus was quite a mouthful. There was no way this could just be orally done. She'd need both hands and skill to pull this off, or . . . get him off.

"Let me see if I can't ignite your 'wick,' she said to him softly, feeling the wizard jerk in reaction to her words.

Then she licked the tip of him, tasting his emissions, Severus jerking again and letting out another indecipherable sound, his hands at his sides, clenching and unclenching sporadically. No. This was not going the way he had envisioned. Hermione had all the control right now. Like most men who found their most delicate parts in the hands of an appreciative woman, he was more than willing to give it to her

Then Hermione slowly slid her lips over him, taking the wizard in, her warm mouth engulfing his flesh in heat and wetness.

"Hermione," he groaned, looking down at her and brushing her hair aside so he could see better. Gods, she felt amazing. Simply amazing. He almost couldn't believe she was doing this for him. She sucked gently, Severus nearly gurgling with pleasure. No witch had ever felt like this . . . but then again, it was probably because of how he felt about the witch and knowing she was doing this to please him affected him greatly.

Hermione then removed him from her mouth and began kissing, licking and wetting his long shaft, her lips, teeth and tongue running over his flesh, lubricating it, the wizard throwing his head back at the pleasurable sensations. Dear gods, Hermione knew what she was doing, tonguing his balls then sucking them into her mouth.

Severus gasped, his head falling forward, and he reflexively grasped the witch's head, burying his long fingers in her soft chestnut curls, shuddering as she rolled him about in her mouth, laving him with her tongue. Shit. If she kept this up it would be the shortest blowjob he ever experienced in his life

"Hermione," he managed to say, "I can't . . ."

Hermione released him and returned to his shaft, gripping it with both hands, feeling the soft foreskin in her grip, then covered his length again with her mouth, this time suckling and bobbing her head, moving her hands back and forth, stimulating the groaning wizard fully as she slid back and forth over his rigid shaft, her tongue flicking at the fluted flange of the head when she withdrew.

Severus' mouth dropped open and stayed that way for a full minute, his eyes glazed with pleasure, his chest heaving as the witch worked her magic, sucking him with skill, using her tongue, lips and even her teeth lightly as she blew him. Severus' head once again fell back, his eyes closed as he panted, wave after wave of delicious sensation fanning out from where Hermione's mouth and hands worked him. He had never felt this kind of delight. Hermione Weasley was truly something special.

Hermione loved the taste of him, loved the feel of his length and hardness moving in and out of her mouth. Loved the increasing volume of his groans and the male scent of him. It was intoxicating, the witch garnering as much pleasure as her lover as she took him to the heights, feeling his hands tightening, then his participation as he slowly lost it, starting to thrust, to press deeper into her heat and softness, whispering encouragement and appreciation as he drew closer to eruption.

"My gods, Hermione. Yes, witch. Yesssss," he hissed at her now, his thighs trembling as he felt the pressure building. Would she pull away or would she drink him down?

"I'm going to explode," the wizard breathed in warning, his hips thrusting helplessly as he drew the witch over him, unable to let her go even if she did want to draw away. His fingers were locked around her head, holding her firmly as he drove into that sweet, talented mouth.

Instead of attempting to pull away, Hermione brought one hot hand to his scrotum, and began massaging it as she continued to milk him, the wizard letting out a number of obscenities as he was driven to the brink, Hermione speeding up, her mouth and hand flying over him as she manipulated him with her fingers . . .

"Arrrrrrgh!" the wizard cried out as the rush hit him, his balls tightening to stones, bliss pouring through him as he clasped Hermione's head and held her steady, jerking while he pulsed, his face contorted as if in pain as he released into her mouth and felt her swallowing. Merlin, Alistair and Circe.

Finally, his pulsing stopped, leaving him weak-kneed, his black eyes wet as he gasped, his chest heaving. He pulled Hermione up, studying her face for a moment. She was flushed . . . and the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on.

It was a wrap. Severus Snape was head over heels in love. Even the snarky Potions master was susceptible to an earth-shaking blowjob.

Men could be so easy.

"You are magnificent," he declared softly, then drew Hermione into a kiss, tasting his own release and not caring as he possessed her mouth hungrily.

Damn.

"And you are putty in my hands," she purred at him when he broke the kiss.

Severus blinked down at her, his eyes uncharacteristically soft.

"And mouth," he breathed.

* * *

A/N: Draaaaaawing it out, as usual. Thanks for reading. 


	81. A Long Awaited Confession

**_WARNING: Explicit sexual content in this chapter. Those who find such scenarios unsavory are advised to skip this chapter.  
_**

* * *

**Chapter 81 A Long Awaited Confession**

Severus lay beside Hermione, turned toward her and caressing her belly gently through the green silk of her nightie. He studied her profile as she arched slightly under his touch, her eyes closed and lips slightly parted.

"You are a beautiful witch," he said to her, and Hermione turned her face toward him, smiling softly.

"There are a lot of witches that look better than I do, Severus. Prettier, shapelier . . ." she began.

"Not to me, Hermione," he breathed, "To me, you are the most beautiful witch on earth."

Hermione snorted.

"I think that blowjob went to your head. The rounder one, that is," she grinned.

Severus' lip quirked slightly.

"About that . . . I never felt anything more exquisite," he said to the witch, his dark eyes resting on her mouth in remembrance.

Again Hermione softly snorted.

"Severus, I'm sure you've engaged in it before. You did have women coming here," she said to him.

"Yes. Yes I did, Hermione, but that was . . . was different. Intercourse was rather clinical. A bit of fellatio and then sex from behind. There was no kissing, embracing . . . the act itself was a physical one and only that. I have never brought a woman to my bed before you," he replied. "Ever."

Hermione sat up on her elbows, looking at him in amazement.

"Surely when you were younger and not in hiding . . ." she began.

He shook his head.

"In my younger years when I was favored by Voldemort, I did indulge myself with female Death Eaters on occasion, usually those who wanted to couple with me because of my status. It was much the same as the prostitutes. A physical act. You are the first woman who ever wanted me for me . . . and showed me," he said softly.

"Why Severus Snape. You are an emotional virgin," the witch said to him tenderly.

Now it was Severus' turn to snort.

"I assure you, there is nothing virginal about me," he said with a little irritation. "But I think what was so special about tonight is that it was the first time a woman who lov . . ."

The wizard stopped mid-sentence, blinking, then continued, "Cared anything for me performed such an act of her own free will. I could feel your desire, your passion and even your pleasure. It was . . . amazing."

Hermione stared at him for a moment, then said, "You had it right the first time."

* * *

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Severus frowned slightly.

"What?" he asked her, not understanding.

"I said you had it right the first time," Hermione said softly, "That it was the first time a woman who loved you performed such an act. I love you, Severus."

Severus stared at Hermione, then slowly sat up in the bed, his dark eyes intense.

"You love me? Are you sure, Hermione?" he breathed at her.

"Yes, Severus. As sure as I am that Charms is as difficult and challenging an art as Potions," she said to him with a soft smile.

Severus stared at Hermione for another moment, then suddenly pulled her into his embrace, holding her as if he would never, ever let her go.

"I love you as well, witch. I was afraid to tell you, afraid you didn't return my love," he breathed, "Afraid that when all was said and done, I still fell short of your expectations."

"No, Severus. You definitely 'Exceed Expectations,'" she whispered back to him.

"You marvelous woman," the wizard crooned, taking Hermione down to the sheets, kissing her hungrily. "You maddening, marvelous woman."

* * *

Hermione was vaguely aware of the sounds of tearing as the Potions master ripped her nightie and her knickers off of her, too impatient to bare her body to take his time, scrambling to remove his pajama bottoms, his lips pressed against hers almost desperately as he kicked his legs in an effort to free them without breaking contact with the witch.

For the couple, what happened next was a haze of passion as they both fought to express what was inside, clawing to get out, Severus covering Hermione's body with kisses one moment, then suddenly finding himself on his back, subject to the witch's own passionate hungers, her mouth moving over him hungrily, laving him, loving him, taking him to a place he had never been before. A place imbued with love. Never had he arched beneath a witch's hands and lips, never had he gasped those words he longed to hear and never were they purred back at him.

"I love you Severus Snape."

Well, he had the words and he had the witch. His witch. Hermione Weasley, who opened up her heart and let him in, welcomed his presence with everything she had. He reveled in her gentle cries as he drank at her core, the witch's hands locked in his hair, gloried at the sighs of her pleasure washing over him as he suckled her tenderly, covering her full breasts with kisses. And her lips were more intoxicating than any wine as their limbs entwined, their bodies both fighting for dominance, rolling over and over, throwing the top sheet off the bed because it was restricting their contact, the feel of skin on skin, flesh on flesh. They tormented each other as they fought to hold back, to enjoy each other's foreplay, to merge before the true merging.

"I love you, Hermione," Severus hissed, rolling over on top of the witch again, her body undulating under him, anxious, hot and ready for the true consummation, the first act of true love between them.

"Show me," she gasped up at him, her hair damp and curling against her temple, her body slick and glowing with perspiration from their wrestling. "Show me how much you love me, Severus."

The wizard felt his heart would burst it was so tight in his chest, the witch's words driving him to a frenzy, his longing to prove he loved her overpowering him. All he could think of was getting inside her, melding with her, taking her body and immersing all that he was in her warmth, in her love. He shook as he positioned himself and let out a cry of pleasure and more than pleasure as he slid inside the woman he loved, hearing her voice in counterpoint to his own, feeling her arms encircling him, welcoming him as she accepted him.

The wizard began to move, his body flowing like the tide, washing over Hermione, and through Hermione, claiming her as he gave his own soul over to the rush of emotions cascading out of him.

"There will be no other witch for me," he gasped at Hermione as he drove into her body passionately, the delicious caress of her inner flesh pure heaven as she moaned beneath him, her eyes glazed as she looked up at the wizard, his face contorting as he stared down at her.

"No other woman. I'm lost to you . . . completely and utterly lost," he breathed, falling to her mouth again, jerking her body hungrily as he delved inside her.

Hermione arched up into his stroke. He wasn't gentle, but her desire for him wasn't gentle either . . . she was on fire, every part of her body and only the thrust, slide and ache of the wizard did anything to cool her, soothe her, even as he lifted her higher, catching her leg and pulling it upward and rising to his knees, poling into the witch and hitting bottom again and again, sweat flying from his body on to hers.

"So fucking beautiful," he growled down at her, "And mine."

Severus leaned forward, catching her leg under his body and angling his stroke, shifting his hips, reaching every part of the witch as she clutched at him, her nails digging into his sides. He didn't mind the pain. It was sweet. It all was too sweet for words.

She loved him.

Suddenly Hermione pushed at his waist.

"Stop," the witch gasped, her eyes wet as she gasped from his attentions and her own emotion.

Severus halted, his black eyes looking down on her hungrily.

"Witch topside," she breathed, pushing him off her then scrambling on top of the surprised wizard, straddling his belly, her hot core resting against his abdomen for a moment before she shifted downward.

"Hermione," he gasped as she grasped his swollen organ, positioned it, then slid over him with an exaggerated sigh of pleasure, then leaned forward and gripped his shoulders for leverage, leaning in and kissing him, bending his cock inside her so he gasped into her mouth in reaction before she sat back up and began to ride him, lifting her body until he almost slipped out then sliding his entire length back inside her.

"You wicked witch," he groaned as she wound her hips in small circles, winding him inside her as she fucked him, not losing the rhythm of the stroke. Severus reached upward and caressed her bouncing breasts, grimacing as she took him for the ride of his life. She wasn't gentle either, impaling herself on his cock like she'd gone mad.

He could learn to like this kind of insanity. Hell, he already liked it. Who knew the witch was so wanton? Then she stopped and the wizard gripped her waist in protest.

"No," he breathed, "Keep going."

"I will . . . now let go," she hissed back at him, her eyes wild, her hair a tangled mane around her head. She looked like a maenad, one of the blood-thirsty wild women who serve Bacchus, the god of wine. Well, if she wanted his blood, Hermione could have every drop of it. He'd die a happy wizard with her wrapped around him.

He hissed as Hermione carefully turned, corkscrewing him inside her, never disconnecting, her round ass facing him. There were two delicious looking dimples at the small of her back, but he couldn't reach them. He felt her grasp his ankles.

"Oh dear gods," he hissed as she began to ride him again, this time his penetration clear, adding to the eroticism of the act as his thickness appeared and disappeared between her rippling cheeks and she wound her hips. Severus caught hold of her waist, helping her, guiding her, groaning and cursing as Hermione went for hers. Whatever she had thought about his size, it certainly appeared she'd gotten over it. Her hunger was amazing.

But it just wasn't hunger . . . it was more.

"Do you like it, Severus?" Hermione gasped, "Does it feel good?"

Shit. She was talking to him.

"Yes!" he groaned as she whirled her hips again, her ass rotating, her tightness gripping and pulling at him. "Exquisite!"

Suddenly, he wanted to see her face to face. He sat up, Hermione in his lap now, not missing a stroke, her buttocks sliding against his belly. He clutched her breasts, hanging on, nearly letting out a cry himself as the witch bounced on him, her legs folded under. He began kissing her back, letting his hands slip over her undulating body.

"Oh that feels so good, Severus," Hermione cried and the wizard pulled her back, stilling her, latching on to her throat and suckling it as he continued caressing her.

"I want you on your knees," he breathed into her ear, his hands all over her slick body, his cock pulsing inside her.

He pushed Hermione forward a bit more roughly than he intended, his organ slipping out of her, the air feeling cold and the wizard experiencing a terrible sense of aloneness for a moment, until Hermione turned, her eyes full of heat as she looked at him.

"I feel as if I could devour you," she breathed, easing toward him. She looked a bit like her namesake, the lioness, her eyes slitted.

"Beautiful," he breathed, dragging her in and kissing her hungrily, tangling their tongues. Hermione broke away from his kiss, almost looking as if she were possessed. Severus suspected this wasn't all potion. It couldn't be. It wasn't a lust potion, just a sensation enhancer.

"Fuck me," the witch demanded.

Oh, such language. Severus bit his lip as he looked at the witch. It was disturbing, but so arousing, so . . . animalistic.

"Now!" Hermione snarled at him.

Never had a witch asked him such a thing, and in such a way. Actually, Hermione wasn't asking, she was ordering. She was past the point of no return and her body was clutching in on itself, wanting release.

"Fuck me, Severus!" she said again, pulling at the wizard.

It was as if he'd awakened from a dream and he darted forward, wrestling the witch around roughly and pushing her head down into the mattress with one hand and guiding himself with the other. He watched as his thick shaft penetrated her, hissing as she closed around him, wet and inviting, the scent of her sex like a drug.

"I'll fuck you," he breathed, and for the first time in his life, Severus let loose, plowing into Hermione with abandon, the witch crying out as he bent over her, wrapping one long arm around her waist and plunging deep inside her.

"Oh gods! Gods!" the witch cried out.

Severus eased up, catching himself. He didn't really want to hurt her . . . it was just what she said, how she said it.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, catching a slow, easy stroke, willing his hungry body to calm down.

"I'm not," Hermione breathed over her shoulder at him, "I'm almost there, Severus. Please. Please take me there . . . anyway you can."

And Severus did. Slowly, reverently but thoroughly, using his body to ease Hermione to orgasm with slow, deep strokes as he told her he loved her over and over again, the witch shuddering under him, under the soft kisses pressed to her shoulders and back as he took her to the brink and over it, the witch gushing over him, bathing him, rewarding him.

Then Severus came, a sudden, shocking response to her crooned words of love as she pulsed around him, telling him she had never had a wizard like him. He knew this of course. There had only been Ron, but still, it was moving and he exploded, releasing with a gasp and clutching her waist as he groaned in time with each spurt, filling her, satisfaction washing over him before collapsing on her back, driving her flat to the bed with his weight.

The Potions master was exhausted. Utterly exhausted. But he rolled off Hermione and gathered her in his arms, kissing her temple tiredly, his own hair plastered to his head as she panted.

"Burn for burn, eh?" the witch said to him as soon as she was able, kissing his cheek.

The wizard gave her a tired smile.

"I fear that fire raged a bit out of control," he said softly. "Good thing I had my hose to put it out."

He lifted his flaccid organ and let it fall to his thigh heavily.

Hermione giggled, then leaned over and kissed his mouth tenderly.

"I love you, Severus Snape," she said once more.

He looked up at her.

"Yes, I know," he said quietly, his heart full. "I know, Hermione and I am grateful."

He pulled her closer, yawned and drifted off to a peaceful, sated sleep, her head resting on his shoulder as if it always belonged there.

* * *

A/N: I had to use that song one more time. It seems fitting for life changing situations in the Potions master's life. Wow. Hermione is a little sex fiend. Lol. Good for Severus though. Thanks for reading. 


	82. Epilogue

**Chapter 82 Epilogue**

So began the true relationship of Severus Snape and Hermione Weasley, each of them discovering a freedom with the other they hadn't known existed. What was clear, however, was that there truly was love between the two, although Severus was never demonstrative in public. It just wasn't his way. But Hermione didn't mind that. She had lived with a man for many years who didn't mind public displays of affection. Ron. Severus' reserve was just as appealing. This did not mean to say that he wasn't solicitous and protective, because he was.

They began to go out more, Hermione convincing him to stop wearing his hood so people could get used to seeing him. The more they saw him, the less likely he was to draw undue attention. Harry could just about go anywhere now without being bothered. Initially, there were a few unfortunate confrontations with Severus nearly blowing the robes off of a crowd of autograph seekers, and hexing a couple of annoying paparazzi who followed him and Hermione one night when they went out to dine. Several very unflattering photos of the snarling wizard made it into the Prophet the next day.

Then he did an interview about how he just wanted to live his life in peace with a sympathetic reporter named Dennis Creevey. He had been the youngest member of the group that attended the initial meeting of Dumbledore's Army years ago, somehow managing to slip into the Hogs Head Inn in his second year, when only third years were allowed to visit Hogsmeade. When his brother Colin was killed at the Final Battle, he followed in his footsteps, first taking an interest in photography, then joining the Daily Prophet Staff shortly after graduation.

The column was enough to make the public understand that Severus Snape simply wanted to live a peaceful life. Although the paparazzi still lurked, the autograph hounds stopped sniffing about, which suited the dark wizard just fine.

Rose and Rod had a bit of a falling out, not that Rose wanted it to happen. The witch was finally forced to ask Rod to the Valentine's Day Dance when it became clear he wasn't going to ask her.

"You want to go with me?" Rod asked the witch.

"Yeah, I do. You're fun at dances," Rose said to the wizard as they walked across the grounds.

"Oh. I was just going to go stag," Rod said.

Rose's face fell.

"But if you want me to go with you, I will. I would have asked you, but I didn't want to become a 'Roland.' You said he tried to take you to all the dances," Rod explained.

"You're nothing like Roland, Rod. You give me space," she said to him.

Rod shrugged.

"Everyone needs space," he said, then realized he was going to have to get new robes and a gift for Rose.

There was only two days left before the dance. He had turned down James and Winston's request that he join them for another routine. He felt one was enough. He didn't want people to think he was a show-off like they secretly thought about the two Gryffindors.

Rod did attend the Valentine's Day dance with Rose, making sure she had a corsage this time, and he purchased another charm for her bracelet. She rewarded him with a kiss in the lips for his thoughtfulness. Of course he turned all kinds of colors.

But it was near the dance's end where the problem started. Rose wanted to take a walk outside through the gardens. A lot of couples were doing it, so Rod took her. They strolled along in silence for a while, then Rose said she wanted to sit for a bit and found a little out of the way alcove with a bench in it. Fairies sitting in small bowers lit up the area with a warm and rather romantic light.

Rod ran his finger around his collar, aware Rose was looking at him. He felt extremely nervous, though he didn't know why exactly.

"It's a nice night," he said, trying to break the tension and looking up at the starlit sky.

"Yes it is. Why didn't you give me a Valentine's Day card, Rod?" Rose asked him.

Rod looked at her a bit startled.

"I . . . I didn't think to do it, Rose. I never gave out cards before. Did you want one from me?" he asked her.

"I wouldn't have asked you about it if I didn't want one," she snapped at him.

"Sorry," he said softly, looking down at his shoes.

Rose stared at him, just plain annoyed.

"Rod, don't you like me?" she asked him directly.

He looked up at her.

"Yeah I like you. And Hugo," he replied.

"I don't mean like that. I mean . . . don't you have any feelings for me as a . . .a girl?" she asked him.

"What do you mean 'as a girl?' That shouldn't matter whether or not I like you," he said to her, "Girls are all right."

Rose pinched her nose. Rod really couldn't be that thick, could he?

No, he wasn't. But he didn't want to get into this conversation with Rose. He wasn't good enough for her.

"Maybe we should go back now, Rose. The ball is just about over," he suggested, rising.

"Sit down, Rod. We need to talk," she ordered him.

Rod sighed and sat back down, looking at the pretty witch in the glow of the fairies.

"I want to know if you like me . . . as a girlfriend," she said to him, her voice low.

Rod blinked at her.

"No," he said shortly. "Just as a friend."

Rose stared at him. She had a distinctly Hermione-like look in her eyes as her eyes washed over Rod, who began to redden slightly.

"Ah ha! You do like me like that!" she said, pointing at him. "Why won't you ask me out?"

Rod mumbled something.

"What?" she said to him.

"Rose, I'm not good enough for you. I don't have anything to offer you. I don't have a family, my grades bite and I'm going to have to work for Sparse Venues for years before I amount to anything," he said to her.

Rose looked at him as if he were insane.

"Rod, you're only eighteen and we're only talking about going steady. You don't need to 'have a future' for that," she said to him. "Nobody thinks that way."

Rod studied her.

"Well I do, Rose. What do you think? Do you think I'd like to go out with you then have somebody better come along and take you away?" he said to her honestly. "I see it all the time here at Hogwarts. People are together one week and then apart the next, with somebody else. I don't want to go through that with you."

"But that's normal, Rod. Teenagers date a lot," she said to the blonde wizard.

"I don't want to," he said sullenly.

He liked Rose more than she realized. He really didn't want to become a Roland, someone who wanted her from afar because things didn't work out. He'd be miserable. It was better to keep her as a friend than a girlfriend.

Rose studied his frowning face. He wouldn't look at her.

"Let's go back inside," Rod muttered.

"Not yet. I want to see something," Rose said to him, shifting closer.

Rod looked up and Rose wrapped her arms around him and snogged him soundly. Rod helplessly kissed her back, not wanting to push her away and make her angry with him. Then the kiss became very sweet, her mouth so soft and warm, and she smelled so good . . .

Rod's arms slowly encircled the witch and he began to kiss her in earnest, becoming the aggressor, his entire body starting to tingle and nature rising to the fore as he began to harden. Before Rod knew what he was doing, he was leaning Rose back on the bench, taking her down to the hard stone, still kissing her and the witch still kissing him back.

Rose had it pretty bad for Rod and didn't feel like breaking away from him, even when she felt him bending her back.

Rod couldn't seem to help himself as he kissed the witch. Everything was getting fuzzy except for Rose, who was still holding him, still kissing him. So soft, so pretty . . .

He had to get closer. He just had to.

He broke the kiss, staring down at Rose, whose brown eyes were heated. He swallowed.

"Rose," he managed to get out, noticing how his voice didn't even seem to sound like it belonged to him.

"Rod," she said softly, "You do like me that way."

"Rose," he said again . . . then suddenly …

"Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing, Dormers?" an angry voice called out.

Suddenly Rod was pulled up from the bench and hit in the face so hard he staggered back, blood flying from his nose as James walked over and pulled Rose up protectively.

"What did he do?" her cousin demanded as Rod wiped at his bleeding nose.

"He didn't do anything!" Rose exclaimed, "We were just . . . just . . ."

"Yeah, I saw what you were just about to do, Rose. Now come on. You're going back inside," he said.

Another witch, Jennifer, was standing there watching the scene. She was James' date for the night and he had brought her out into the gardens with the intention of doing to her what he believed Rod was about to do to Rose. Well, this had fucked up his plans nicely.

"James, wait. Rod wasn't doing anything . . ." Rose protested.

"And he's not going to. Not while I'm around. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin, eh Rod?" he growled at the wizard, who pulled out his wand and fixed his nose, scourgifying the blood from his dress robes. "You won't be shagging my cousin, I'll tell you that! Get a witch from your own house. I heard it's not that hard to get laid by one of them. Let's go, Rose."

Rose looked back at Rod helplessly as James led her away. Rod stood there a moment. He knew Rose would be trouble. Well, he didn't need James dogging his heels. He'd just leave Rose alone completely.

It was the best thing to do in this situation.

Rod slowly exited the gardens, taking the long way around the castle, entering the front doors and heading to Slytherin House.

It had been a long night.

* * *

Rod avoided Rose for the rest of the year, although he still talked to Hugo. James no longer spoke to him either, giving him a nasty glare any time he met his eyes. There was no talking to James either. He was a lot like Harry in that once he got something into his head it was hard to dislodge it, whether it was true or not. He promised Rose he'd beat Rod to a pulp if he caught him alone with her, he didn't care how fair she thought it was. No one was going to turn his cousin into a slut. 

James conveniently ignored the fact that he had shagged his share of Hogwarts witches and had quite the "slut list" under his robes. Or that could be exactly why he was so protective of Rose. He didn't want her added to a Slytherin's slut list. He might have been a bit more accepting if Rod was in any other house. Cool as he was, he was still Slytherin and Slytherins lived to bring down Gryffindor House any way they could. Even if Rod's intentions were honorable, if his housemates ever got wind of it, Rose's name would be permanently smeared.

When graduation time came around, Rod was seated with the rest of the seventh years. Every time a student was called, his or her family stood up proudly as they marched across the dais to get their diplomas. When they received them, they would turn their tassel and their family and housemates would cheer and applaud. When he would be called, there'd be no one to stand up for him. He doubted if any Slytherins would cheer either. He had returned to his solitary ways after the incident with James. Hugo tried to find out what happened but no one would tell him, not even Rose.

"Rod Dormers!" Wumblewort announced.

Rod sighed and stood up. He was the only orphan graduating. His belly tightened as he began to walk toward the podium, not looking at the silent audience. He walked up to Wumblewort and received his diploma. He received "fair" marks as was expected. Fair marks were just a bit below "acceptable" marks. One good year didn't make up for six bad ones.

"Good luck, Mr. Dormers," Wumblewort said solemnly.

"Thank you sir," Rod said, dreading what was next. He was to turn his tassel then look out on the audience. There would be no one to cheer and applaud for him.

Taking a deep breath and reddening slightly, Rod turned his tassel and faced the audience, only to be met by applause, cheers and whistles.

There, standing in the audience was Hermione, Severus, Molly and Arthur Weasley as well as Harry and Ginny. All except Severus were cheering and congratulating him, but the dark wizard was clapping and nodding his approval at the boy. Whispers went up all around as everyone saw Professor Snape clapping for Rod, and slowly Slytherin house joined in. Rod looked over at the Gryffindor section and grinned as he saw Hugo jumping up and down cheering as his housemates scowled at him and tried to make him sit down. Even Headmaster Wumblewort and the staff joined in once they saw who was standing up for Rod.

Rose looked at him sadly, their eyes meeting for a moment as Rod walked down the dais and over to the congratulations committee. There was no way Hermione was going to let Rod graduate without support.

Hermione embraced and kissed Rod, as did Molly, telling him who she was and thanking him for saving Rose. Ginny hugged and kissed him too, and Arthur shook his hand so soundly, his graduation hat went askew. Harry, who he met before shook his hand as well. Then he faced Professor Snape, whose dark eyes glittered at him for a moment before he soberly stuck out his pale hand to the boy.

"Welcome to the world of work, Mr. Dormers," the wizard said. "I expect you on the premises tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest. Your cottage is stocked and prepared for occupation."

"Thank you sir," Rod said smiling at the wizard.

"Oh, you will, believe me," Severus said ominously, an unpleasant little smirk on his face. "Starting with the Bubertuber fields. A few noxious pods have burst and need to be cleaned out as soon as possible."

Rod sighed.

It figured.

* * *

Rose and Hugo came and stayed for the summer, Hugo getting to know the Professor better and coming to the conclusion he did like him, if only for the entertainment value. He and mum would get into some very interesting discussions and he liked the cool way Severus handled his hot-headed mum. He even caught him kissing her to silence and found it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would, especially since mum was smiling. He made her happy and maybe she made him less sour, though it was hard to tell. 

They didn't see much of Rod because Severus worked him hard. He was always busy, even on the weekends, earning his galleons and learning the trade. Luckily, Rod showed some aptitude and his spell work was excellent. He didn't mind getting dirty and Severus decided early on he had chosen the right wizard for the job and he would make a fine supervisor since he was quite meticulous, the dark wizard finding it difficult to find anything wrong with his work.

Rose wasn't her usual chipper self, and Hermione noticed it immediately, sitting her daughter down and asking her what was wrong.

Rose told her about Rod and James in the garden on the night of the Valentine's Ball, and how James had walked up on them kissing and got the wrong impression.

"Now Rod avoids me," Rose said glumly. "He still talks to Hugo but won't have anything to do with me. I can't say I blame him mum. If it wasn't for me, we wouldn't even have been kissing. I made him kiss me so I could see if he liked me or not. It just went a little further than we planned. . . well . . . I planned."

Hermione shook her head. Rose was as impulsive as her father sometimes. Then the rest of what Rose said hit her.

"How much further?" Hermione asked, scowling. Rose was the age of consent, but still…

"Oh, nothing bad mum. Just the kissing got a little heavy. I really like Rod, and he really likes me, though he won't admit it. He says he just wants to be friends because he doesn't want to date me and then have me leave him for someone else. It's like he doesn't even think like a young person," Rose said.

Hermione thought about Severus, and how he had loved Lily and only Lily for years, even after her death.

"There really are one-witch wizards out here, Rose," she said to her daughter. "It could be Rod wants any relationship he forms to be real and permanent. He's had so little in his life. He doesn't want his heart broken."

"But how will he find anyone if he's not willing to try?" Rose asked her.

"Maybe he's just not ready to try yet, Rose. Maybe he wants to make something of himself first," she said to her daughter gently. "Not all wizards are hormone-driven gits."

"Most are. I guess Rod isn't one of them," she said with a sigh, "But he can kiss mum."

"I don't want to hear about it," Hermione said to her daughter. "And you need to stop being so forward too."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in a debate between mother and daughter about acting a proper witch. Unfortunately for Hermione, Severus came in and listened, a small smirk on his face waiting for an opportunity to get her alone. Presently, Rose went for a dip in the pool. Hugo was out helping Rod in the fields.

"Were you trying to school your daughter on 'forwardness' with wizards?" Severus asked the witch as Hermione flushed.

"Yes. I was just trying to tell her not to be too 'pushy' and not to force herself on a wizard she's attracted to . . ." Hermione began.

Severus simply looked at her with a knowing smirk. If Rose ever got a gander at how 'pushy' Hermione could be behind closed doors, she'd be scarred for life.

"Isn't that the pot calling the cauldron black?" he purred at her.

"Shut up, Severus. I'm older than Rose and more experienced," she snapped at him.

"I've no doubt about that. If your daughter has even one-eighth the 'experience' of her mother, no decent wizard would stand a chance," he quipped, ducking as Hermione took a swing at him. He caught her arms and kissed her soundly.

"You know I like it when you hit me, witch," he growled at her, "although I prefer you pounding on my back as I'm pounding into you."

Hermione colored. Their sex life had taken quite a turn, Hermione discovering she didn't mind a bit of roughness from the dark wizard. He knew when to stop and when to go. Besides, she had brought it out of him with her twisted little ways, so she dealt with it. But both of them were very happy. She had finished another spell for the wizard, a large containment spell for the fields that allowed the plants to breathe and was now working on weather charms. It was Severus' hope that he could grow plants all year, even during the winter months. When and if she completed the spell, then expansion would occur.

Not only would expansion occur, but the wizard planned to propose to her and make her a proper wife. She would move out of the worksite which would be expanded into a site suitable for a number of employees, all working on Charms. He would also be building another site for Potions brewing. Hopefully she would agree to marry him. Of course, he would make her a director and give her shares in the company. She would still earn a salary but technically she would be his equal. That ought to bring some peace to the marriage bed. If the witch said yes.

And she did.

They were married three years later on the grounds of Sparse Venues by Headmaster Wumblewort surrounded by friends and family, all on Hermione's side. Molly had finally accepted Hermione's choice and felt Severus was a good, stable wizard who would treat her and the children well. Rod stood in as Severus' best man and Rose as Hermione's maid of honor. Both of them looked at each other longingly as the vows were taken.

Rod was a supervisor now and a strapping young wizard of twenty-one, though he looked and had the bearing of someone much older. He was a lot like Severus when dealing with employees, hard but fair. He didn't allow slacking or shoddy work because it was a reflection on his abilities. He and Rose had eventually patched up their differences, James backing off when Rose graduated the year following Rod.

"Now you can shag who you want," he said to her at graduation.

He got a good slap with her hat for that comment, but he deserved it.

Hugo, now eighteen, worked with George at the joke shop and met a red-headed witch named Mildred that he was gah-gah over.

She was ten years his senior and a whole lot of fun. Educational too. Very educational.

Needless to say, Hermione didn't know. She had other things on her mind.

Like the baby she was expecting.

Rose thought it was a bit gross that she was going to have a brother or sister twenty years younger than her, and already was giving her mum prices for babysitting services, since she had her own place and was going to school for . . . of all things, Potions.

It seemed she was going to get in on the family business as well.

Severus was a complete pain in the ass, always hovering over Hermione and trying to make her drink concoctions meant to keep her health up. Most of them tasted horrible and they were constantly arguing about it. Hermione was a real bitch too. The more she rounded, the worse her temper became and Severus spent a lot of time apologizing for things he didn't do, and flitting around the wizarding and muggle world getting her foods she craved for at all hours, even work hours.

The employees in the Charms research department did their best to get everything right the first time, because Hermione would fly into a rage at the slightest error. Severus had nothing on snark during that pregnancy. But to be fair, Hermione was much nicer during the next one and the next.

She had two sons and one daughter, all of them pale-skinned and dark-haired. Severus Tobias Snape Jr. (Of course) Michael John Snape and Erin Jane Snape, all born two years apart. Hermione liked to say Severus gave her a year off between babies for good behavior.

Young Severus was very much like his father in demeanor, quite serious and snarky. He also looked like him, except his nose was a shade smaller and his hair less lank. Michael was a prankster and loved his brother Hugo, who tried to take him everywhere. He practically lived at the joke shop and looked like Hermione feature-wise. Erin was a little dark-haired know-it-all like Hermione, but with a sharper tongue. She couldn't stand dunderheads and scheduled like crazy. She wasn't happy unless her nose was stuck in some difficult to understand book. She was an interesting mix between her father and mother in looks, with curling black hair and light brown eyes.

On the mantle above the fireplace in the living room of their new home, rested a glass case that contained a small, shriveled, kidney bean-shaped stone. Hermione had found it in Severus' drawer and asked him what it was. He said it was the original stone that saved him from Nagini's bite. Her eyes glistened as she looked from the stone to her beloved husband, and promptly she made case for it and put it on display.

Etched on the glass was a simple quotation, one that she truly believed summed up their lives in seven simple words. It read:

**_WHERE THERE IS LOVE, THERE IS HOPE._**

Truer words were never written.

The End

* * *

A/N: And that my friends, is the end of A New Beginning. I hope you all enjoyed it. Thanks for reading. 


	83. Repost Notice

******Author's Note: I thought I would repost this story for those who've seen the last movie and are feeling the loss of Snape deeply. You'd be surprised how much people are affected. I originally wrote this story after the release of the last book. I'm hoping reposting it might help ease the sorrow a little. After all, Snape will live forever in fanfiction. "_**

******A few more "Snape Lives" stories are:**

Twice Bitten ~ Vampirism plays quite a role in this fantastical tale. XD

An Unlikely Savior: Snape not only survives but saves Hermione only to exact payment for the Life Debt she owes him. What a payment. It comes back to bite him and everyone in the arse. Non-romantic HG/SS  


******A Looping of the Scales: Not only does Snape survive, he has an accident that allows him to relive his life completely.**

A Turn for the Better: Sort of a Time Turner story. Hermione warns Snape about Tom Riddle's treachery, and the entire timeline changes. There is no Voldemort in the Wizarding World, and relationships are different. For example, Harry has parents. But Snape is still Snape.

Through the Looking Glass: Most twisted story of all. Definitely for open-minded mature adults because of the graphic content. This is a story about two Hogwarts universes, with two versions of the same characters in almost opposite circumstances and with opposite personalities. In that world Snape is head of Gryffindor, Hermione is in Slytherin and the rules are far different. Oh, and Tom Riddle is the greatest Headmaster ever known. Of course, someone trades places for a bit. Not good.

So, if you need your "Snape Lives" fix, there's a few relatively DH compliant here. Relatively XD. There might be a few more, but I can't remember off the top of my head. 


End file.
